


No Pain, No Gain

by Duochanfan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, Sickfic, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:42:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 54
Words: 70,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duochanfan/pseuds/Duochanfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming down with the Flu is only the beginning of a bad time for Dr John H Watson, though there is something on the horizon that may make all the pain he goes though fade away.  But with Moriarty on the move once again, will John and Sherlock be able to overcome the threat and the pain that follows?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.
> 
> There are two people that I need to thank, one is Kizzia for help with the title, Thanks Sweetie! And DragonSlayer2187 who went through this for me, huggles bab!

 

**No Pain, No Gain**    
  

**Chapter One**

 

John groaned as he pulled his quilt over his head and snuggled further down the bed just a little bit more. He could hear the pounding of sock clad feet as they came up the stairs and towards his bedroom. He knew what Sherlock was going to ask of him. He knew that he would once again give in to the request and get out of bed. John didn't wish to, as he was feeling like total crap. His head was beginning to pound in time with is heartbeat and his body ached He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but with Sherlock coming into the bedroom he knew it wouldn't happen. Sherlock had been talking about a number of murders in the city over the last two weeks. Each one was beginning to get more vicious as each new victim turned up.

"John!" came the smooth tones of his genius flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, as the door to his room burst open, slamming against the wall and causing John to wince, "Lestrade just text, we have another body." There was a thrill of excitement running through his voice as he spoke. It spoke of the chase, the puzzle and the feelings of being right, along with another life that would be saved, "John, get up." He called to him again as he moved over to the older the bed and nudged the mattress with his foot, wanting him to hurry up so they could go, "Hurry up John, I don't want Anderson to ruin the scene before we get there."

John sighed as he pulled the cover down and looked up at the man that was hovering over his bed, "I'm up and awake Sherlock." He said as he sat up, closing his eyes as be began to feel the affects of the flu starting to make itself known. It was a sudden onset of symptoms, since he had felt fine when he had gone to bed three hours ago. John hoped he would be able to keep up with anything that Sherlock dragged them through.

Sherlock glanced down at him. He observed John for a moment and saw that he was pale, with a slight flush of colour on the older mans cheeks. John looked to be in some discomfort, "You're ill," he stated simply.

Light blue eyes looked up to his flatmate as he said, "I know," not explaining to the other what was wrong with him. John flipped the cover off him and sat up on the edge of his bed; "Can I at least have a quick shower before we go?" he asked his friend and waited for an answer.

"Yes," Sherlock nodded, as he looked his friend over once again. He rarely had the chance to see John without a top on, and the younger man had to admit that the doctor had some hidden muscles on him. The sight gave him a pleasant feeling inside, one he couldn't help but enjoy. What drew most of Sherlock's attention was the injury to John's left shoulder. A scar, the aftermath of being shot when he was in Afghanistan over a year ago. It was something that had almost taken the older mans life, before they had even had a chance to meet. It was not something that Sherlock liked to think about. He nodded his head quickly and left the room before his scrutiny could make his friend feel uncomfortable, "I'll make you some tea." He called out over his shoulder.

John jolted a little in surprised at the words Sherlock called out to him. John could count the number of times that Sherlock had made him tea on two hands, and that was only because in the last month or so, that Sherlock had started making them more.

John shook his head a little, wincing as his head throbbed in pain. He got up and made his way to the bathroom. He hoped that the shower would help him feel at least semi human before he had to leave the flat. The hot water helped soothe some of the aches, but not everything. He let the water cascade over him as he quickly washed his hair and body. He thought over the lack of severed heads in the flat. There had only been two occasions where he had found fingers and toes in there over the last few weeks. It confused him a little, about the slight changes in Sherlock and what he does around the house. Though Sherlock still never went to the shop to get milk or any groceries. John stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off and got dressed.

John walked into the living room, yawning, and sat down in his usual chair. Sherlock was soon walking in and placing a mug of tea on the small end table next to him. Sherlock walked over to the sofa and sat down, looking John over. John had closed his eyes against the light in the room. He slowly opened them and looked to the mug and then to Sherlock, "Thanks." He smiled as he picked it up and held it between his hands.

Sherlock smiled back and then started to watch his flatmate as he murmured, "You're welcome." John got a funny feeling from Sherlock; it started after the case with Moriarty and the incident at The Pool. Sherlock had taken to watching him a lot of the time when he was in the flat. When John was out he would often get a random text from Sherlock that would require him to answer. John didn't know why his friend was watching him all the time, but he didn't mind it. It felt like Sherlock cared about him more than he would admit. It was also amusing at times when he noticed that he was being watched, he would look to Sherlock, who would quickly look away, as though he didn't want to be caught.

John drank his tea, enjoying the warmth that it ran through him. He set the mug down on the small end table and looked over to Sherlock. "Shall we?" he said as they stood up.

Sherlock couldn't help but the grin of excitement he gave to his flatmate as the two of them put on their coats to ward off the chilled September air. The weather had quickly turned chilly as August gave way to September and kept going down as they days wore on. Sherlock was soon stood at the curb calling out, "Taxi!"

John snorted and shook his head a little as a black cab pulled up and stopped for them. He knew that if he tried to call one, it would take sometime for him to get one to notice him. They climbed into the back of the cab and Sherlock gave the driver the address. John sighed as his body protested being out of the house and away from his bed. His joints ached as he settled back into the seat, hoping they would stop just for a little bit. Each light that raced by sent a sharp spike of pain through his already aching head. He closed them against the light, hoping it would help a bit.

"You all right?" came Sherlock's voice, startling him a little.

"What?" He asked as he opened his eyes and looked over to the detective. He blinked a few times to get right of the blurriness within his eyes.

"I asked if you are all right?" piercing green and greyish eyes looked to him, as though they were observing everything about him, and John had no doubt that they were.

"Yeah," he answered him softly, "I'm fine," John frowned as his voice was now sounding a little croaky.

Sherlock hummed a little in disbelief, he could see that John wasn't well, even if the other didn't want to admit it. Sherlock couldn't help but worry about John and if he was well enough to help on the case with him. He felt bad about bringing John out with him, but he felt better for having the other man around. Sherlock had to admit, even if it was only to himself, that he worried every time he let John go out of the flat or even when he left John alone. Sherlock gave a soft sigh at his thoughts and shook his head to get rid of them. He turned his attention back to the buildings that were steadily going by as they approached the crime scene. He hoped that they would help distract him from the thoughts.

John felt Sherlock's attention leave him and he leaned back in his seat, keeping himself still as he waited for the car to arrive at its destination. John did his best to keep the wince off his face as the car rounded a sharp corner, causing his body to protest the jolting motion. His head was beginning to pound even more and he wished he had thought to take some Paracetamol before he had left the flat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.
> 
> WARNING - Some Graphic Description of a Murder Victim.

** No Pain, No Gain **

** Chapter Two **

The black cab pulled up to the curb, blue lights were flashing against the early morning darkness. Sherlock almost raced out of the cab as John was once again left behind to pay the fare. He stepped out of the cab and joined the Consulting Detective as he strode towards the crime scene tape. The tall man ducked under it as Sergeant Sally Donovan came over to them, a scowl already on her face as she saw Sherlock walking towards the scene.

"So, once again we have to put with you, Freak. I don't know why Lestrade needs you, you're just a show off, getting off on the misery of others." She said as she looked to him, a sneer on her face.

Sherlock looked her over from head to toe and then smirked, "Ah, bitter tonight are we, date didn't go well I take it." He said as he took a small sniff, "Date clothing, but the scent of aftershave that is lingering around you belongs to our favourite idiot. So no chance of fun tonight with Anderson then." He told her as he waited for her reaction.

"Grrr," she growled as she stomped off in a huff.

John just shook his head, he would have said something to her about professional courtesy, but she stormed off before he had a chance. John hated the fact that Donovan and Anderson constantly tried to belittle Sherlock. Not once in all the time Sherlock and John had worked together had Sherlock started anything with the two, they always started on him first. John had tried to get them to leave him alone, but so far he hadn't been successful in getting them to back off. John knew that Sherlock claimed to be a Sociopath, but he knew that it wasn't right. He believed that it was a ploy to keep people away from him. The young man did care about things; he just hid it extremely well. It made him appear cold and dispassionate to those around him, to those that didn't take the time to get to know and understand the genius.

"Did you have to invite the freak here?" Anderson turned to Lestrade, who was standing by him as the two of them walked over to them. Every time Sherlock was called to a crime scene John would hear the same thing, Anderson complaining, and Donovan throwing insults.

"Enough of the freak talk Anderson and get back to work," Lestrade told him, his voice stern for once as he called the forensic scientist to order.

"Humph," he huffed as he turned around and went back to photographing the scene before him, trying to make sure that he didn't miss anything.

"Lestrade," Sherlock greeted him, no trace of emotion on his face as he reached the older man.

"Sherlock, thanks for coming." He nodded a small smile working it self on his face as he then turned to the scene and then back to the consulting detective, "I'll let you get to work, just tell me what you can on this one," he then added as lines of worry and stress were visible on his face, this case had been going on for a couple of weeks, and John could see that it was getting to Lestrade. People were looking to him for answers, and there weren't any to give.

Sherlock nodded and moved around Anderson as he took his pictures. Anderson looked to the genius and sent the man a sneer. Sherlock ignored it and knelt down by the body, the legs spread apart, hands bound and weighed down above the bodies head. John moved a little closer, coming along side Lestrade as he did so. He watched as Sherlock moved around the body, looking at it from all angles, bringing out his pocket magnifying glass as he worked. He stood up quickly a few minutes later and looked around the scene itself, murmuring to himself a little as he did so.

"John, look at the body, what do you observe?" he then asked, as he looked over to the ex-army doctor.

John nodded slightly, wincing internally at the pain in his head, he moved a little closer. He looked the body over as he knelt down, letting his mind run over what he could see. The body was that of a 20-25 year old male, Caucasian, with light blond hair and dark brown eyes, that were wide open, unseeing in death. He was naked, his legs splayed out and his arms were bound together and pinned under a slab of slate. There were thin lacerations along the arms; legs and torso told him that his clothes had been cut away with a sharp knife. The victims' genitals had been removed from the body and placed on the slate slab, as though they were on display. There were small gashes over the torso, and with the blood covering them; they told John that the victim had been alive while they were being done. John looked over the body closely, and frowned. He could see a small needle mark by the hairline. He looked to the mouth; there was a small piece of cloth that had been shoved in there.

"Well John?" Sherlock asked, impatience coming through as he spoke.

"The lacerations on his body tell me that he was alive when they were done. And he was alive when his genitals were removed. During all of this there is no suggestion that he moved or struggled at all. Which, with the needle mark behind his ear, suggests that he was drugged with something." He answered, as he stood up, barely able to stop himself from swaying on the spot at the change in height.

Lestrade looked over to the doctor as he quickly wrote down what he had said, "Well Sherlock?" he then asked the other man as he waited for the other to tell him what he had been able to deduce.

"Your killer is a woman, around 5'4" and 115lbs." He said as he walked around the body once more, "She dresses in men's clothing to get into the clubs, her frame is petite, small. She is average looking, but when dressed in more masculine clothing she becomes pretty, something that some men look out for. She lures them out of the club, but when out, she then forces them, I would say with a gun, to the alleys." He added as he knelt down once again, "To make sure that she can over power them with ease she drugs them and then gags them, making sure that they can't call out for help as their strength fades. There is some spittle on the body, I would say it belongs to your killer. She hates them all, or more precisely what they all represents. Then she emasculates them, leaving them to die." He said as he looked to the older man as he wrote down what he had said.

"A woman, doing this." Anderson scoffed at the deduction Sherlock gave them.

"Yes, a woman," Sherlock said as he turned to him and looked down at the kneeling forensic scientist.

"How could it be a woman?" he shook his head, not believe what Sherlock was saying about the possibility that the killer could be a female.

Sherlock sighed as he looked down to him and was about to say something when he caught sight of John, who subtly shook his head a little hoping to head off his normal rant about stupidity to Anderson's face. He then looked over to Lestrade and partly ignoring the look John had sent and said, "Please, tell me that he is the worst of the idiots that you have on your team and that you are considering getting rid of him for someone with a modicum of intelligence."

"Sherlock," Lestrade said as he asked, "Just tell me why you think it's a woman?" he didn't answer or say anything to the consulting detectives question, knowing that it wouldn't get him anywhere in the end.

He huffed a little as he then answered him, "The shoe size is a five, from the prints around the body, and further away there are more prints, but they belong to female shoes, which had been hidden here. This was planned, where she would take them, so she could change, in the bin you will find the clothes that she dumped. The slate slab was brought with her as well, and hidden around here. Trace it would be a good idea. There are not that many places that sell these types of slate slabs. As for how tall she is, the injection sight is high, but the angle of it indicates someone smaller reaching up. Not only that but she also knelt on the ground at one point, giving up a indication oh how long her lower leg is, and with basic maths, that even you should be able to figure out Anderson, you should be able to figure out her height." He paused for a moment to take a breath before continuing on, Lestrade taking notes quickly as he tried to keep up, "She is wearing men's clothing to get into the club, as the club this victim was at was a gay male only club, as were the others. She lures them out and then as soon as they are outside and out of sight of the doors, she pulls a gun and gets him to where she wants them. As soon as they are in the target area, she drugs them, injects them. It throws them off balance, as you can see from the marks in the dirt, he stumbled and went to his hands and knees, collapsing back. She then over powered him, gagging him, and tying his hands, pinning hem down the slate slab. He had no strength and no way to fight back." He frowned as he started to think was drug could cause those problems.

"Is that all Sherlock?" Lestrade asked as he wrote down the last bit of information that the young man had given him.

"For now," he said as his mind was working on the things that he had gathered from his crime scene and the last one that he had been called to. He added the information to the files that Lestrade had given to him when he had gone to New Scotland Yard, after being called in to consult on the case.

"If you have anything else to share Sherlock, then do so," he pushed him a little more.

"At that moment there is nothing else to add," he told him as he looked to John and said, "Come on John," and then started to walk away from the scene and to the main road once again.

John looked over to Lestrade and shrugged his shoulders a little as he said softly, "You know what he's like." A wry smile on his face as he followed Sherlock. John wondered what the genius was thinking this time and where it would all lead in the end.

"Yeah, you all right with following him again?" he asked the doctor as he got a good look at him. He could see that John was pale, and there was a slight flush to him as well. Lestrade thought it might be the lack of sleep, which was often the case with Sherlock and John. Especially when they started working a case with him, and it was still only four in the morning.

"Of course," he smiled as he heard Sherlock call for him again, he gave the man a nod as he began to move away.

Lestrade gave the doctor a nod as he said, "Take care of yourselves."

"I'll do my best," John said, his voice sounding a little tired as he spoke.

"John!" came Sherlock's voice once again as he called out to his flatmate.

John and Lestrade shared a smile as the doctor then walked away. Lestrade shook his head as at Sherlock's demanding nature. He looked over to Anderson as he was photographing all the things that Sherlock had pointed out to them. Lestrade was glad that the man was getting on with his work and not complaining about Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and the kudos, glad people are liking it so far. I do hope you carry on reading and that you carry on enjoying it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.
> 
> Happy New Year to you all!
> 
> Enjoy

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Three**

John walked away from Lestrade and followed Sherlock's voice as he called for him once again. He hoped that they would be going home now. But this was Sherlock and he had to wonder where the Consulting Detective would drag him off to next. His body was beginning to ache even more than when he first left the flat. All John wanted to do was to go back home and climb into his comfy bed and sleep for at least a week.

"Where are we going?" John asked him as he caught up to the detective.

"Home," was Sherlock's simple answer, "There is nothing that we can do at the moment. We could always go around to each of the clubs, but I don't think that would be good idea for you at this moment in time," he added as he to glanced over to John and looked him over. He could see the tiredness in the others posture as well as the fact that he appeared to be in pain. He only knew that thanks to the small tell between John's eyes, it would crease up when he was in any type of pain. The more painful the more pronounced the crease would be.

John looked to him thankfully and said, "If you're sure that there isn't something that we can do before we go home then that's fine with me."

Sherlock grinned a little as he looked down to his shorter flatmate, "Then home we shall go," he nodded and then walked to the kerb and shouted, "Taxi!" a hand raised.

"I really want to know how you get them to come to you straight away," John grumbled a bit as he looked to the cab that was already pulling up after Sherlock had called out for one.

"Grow a little more taller," Sherlock smirked to his friend as he opened the door to the cab.

John growled at the little jibe to his height. Sherlock was always making fun of him about it, though John knew that it wasn't done maliciously, just friendly insults. He saw Sherlock get in the back of the cab and he got in as well, "Sherlock, not good." He said as he sat down and leaned back, letting himself relax into the seat as he did so.

"But it is true, I have noticed that a lot of the time the taller you are the quicker you are to get attention from the drivers. It also helps with the way you dress. I dress smartly, a suit, and you, well you dress at least." He said as he smirked, glancing over to John, who was once again in dark jeans and a dark jumper, his black jacket pulled tightly around him. Sherlock dropped the smirk quickly as he noticed that John was shivering a little.

John sent him a quick annoyed looked as he then saw Sherlock frowning at him. He looked back to the window. Not answering the second jibe that had been sent to him. He wondered a little about the look that Sherlock was sending him, but put it out of his mind for now. He wanted to rest a little before he had to move again.

Sherlock watched as John relaxed back in the seat and looked out of the window. He was concerned, as he could see that John was beginning to shiver. Sherlock knew that it was a sigh of a fever and it worried him a little. He briefly wondered how ill John actually was, he could see that the other was pale and that there was a slight flush on his cheeks. Sherlock was tempted to reach over and pull John towards him and keep him warm.

The cab slowly pulled up to 221B Baker Street and Sherlock opened the door on his side and stepped out. He rushed around the side of the cab and almost skipped up the kerb as John quickly paid the fare. John stepped out of the cab and slammed the door closed. Sherlock opened the front door of their home and bound up the stairs, two at a time, before entering their flat. Leaving John standing on the street.

The ex army doctor sighed in annoyance, as he followed Sherlock at a more sedate pace. He stepped into the living room and saw that Sherlock was already in the kitchen, making a lot of noise as he moved around. John briefly thought about going into the kitchen and making the two of them some tea. He quickly dismissed the thought as all he wanted to do was sit down for a while, before he went upstairs to his bedroom to try and get a little more sleep. John had work in the morning, and with a quick glance to his watch, he would have to be up again in around three hours.

Sherlock came out of the kitchen and looked down at John, whose eyes were closed, his head tilted against the back of the armchair. "John," he said softly as he called to his friend and flatmate.

"Hmm," he hummed as he opened his eyes slowly, he sat up a little more as he had been drifting off in his chair, "Sorry," he apologised, giving Sherlock a small smile.

"Tea, and then I think you should head to bed." Sherlock said, a soft smile on his face. It was one that had begun to appear more and more over the last month or so.

John looked to him and to the mug of tea that Sherlock was holding out for him to take, "Thanks Sherlock." He said softly as he took the mug and held it. He smiled to himself as he looked into the slightly swirling liquid.

"How are you feeling exactly?" Sherlock asked him, John could hear the worry in his friends voice.

John looked over to him and answered honestly, "Just really tired, I think a nice rest would help, though I do have work tomorrow. I have a half shift at the clinic tomorrow morning till around half one." he was tempted to call in and take the day off, but he didn't like doing so unless there was a good reason, like helping Sherlock on a case.

"Are you sure you should be going to work tomorrow?" Sherlock then asked as he went over to the sofa and sat down, watching John closely as he slowly began to sip his tea.

John looked over and answered, "I'll be fine, Sherlock. It's only a half-day, and you know that if you need me you can always call me, or text. I don't like leaving Sarah in the lurch, she understands about our cases, but I don't want to keep having time off all the time for something simple as feeling under the weather."

Sherlock shook his head, "I mean, should you be going to work since you are feeling unwell. Wouldn't it be better to spend it in bed resting? Just in case I do need you, which for this case, looks likely."

"I'll be fine Sherlock, there isn't anything to worry about. I'll be all right" John reassured him, sounding more confidant than he felt.

"I do worry though. I can tell that you are in pain, and I can also see that you have a slight fever, of around 37.9°C," Sherlock informed John as he observed his friend once again.

"Sherlock, I'll be all right," he once again did his best to reassure Sherlock, "I have a half day at the clinic tomorrow. If you need me all you have to do is text or call, as normal. If I get home and nothing is going on, I'll sleep a little more." He added, hoping that his friend wouldn't decide to go off on his own, as was normally the case when John couldn't join him. It was a habit that continued to worry the shorter man.

"Very well. Though if you don't think you can handle things tell me," he said softly as he looked over to him and added, "I have a feeling that I will need you tomorrow, when I don't know, just make sure you are up for it."

John nodded and yawned, "well, I'm off to bed," he smiled as he stood up and then added, "I don't suppose you will be going to bed anytime tonight?"

Sherlock glanced over with a look of 'Now that is the stupidest question you have ever asked me' on his face. John grinned a little and nodded as he walked out of the room and up to his room.

John quickly changed into some sweats and an old T-shirt and settled down into bed. He sighed in relief as he was finally able to relax. It didn't take him long to fall asleep, with a last thought of 'Hope this doesn't last long'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the Kudos! I'm happy that people are liking it so far!
> 
> Edited - 19th August 2014


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> I do hope that this reads a lot better than it did before. I have gone through it using my new way of editing. So I hope there won't be as many mistakes as before. If you see any please tell me so I can correct them.
> 
> Enjoy!

No Pain, No Gain

Chapter Four

John leaned back in his office chair and sighed a little. It was coming to the end of a long day for him. Over the last hour he had felt his temperature rise a bit. He was feeling a chill in the room because of it. He knew that it was the flu; there was nothing else that it could be to him. He hadn't come across anything worse than that over the last few weeks during his shifts at the Clinic. He quickly finished up the last of his notes for his last patient of the day. John glanced around the room and over to the clock, his shift was officially over now. He was thankful once again that he only had a half-day. He just hoped that when he got home, he would have a chance to curl up, relax and rest for a while. Well, until Sherlock needed his help with something.

John stood up, frowning as the world around him tilted slight before it righted itself once again. The doctor walked out of his office and into the reception area. There were only a few more patients that needed to be seen in the room. He could see Sarah already standing at the reception desk, talking to the woman sat behind it. He walked over to them both, giving them a warm smile as he came to a stop beside Sarah.

"John," Sarah smiled over to him as she then asked, "Are you done for the day?"

"Yes," he smiled back as he gave a nod to Anna as she smiled over to him. The ex-army doctor had charmed all the staff, without him even trying.

"You look a little pale," Sarah looked to him and her doctor's eye easily spotting that something was wrong with him, "Is everything all right?" she then asked.

"Just starting to feel a little under the weather, that's all." He brushed off her concern, not wanting her to try and insist that she check him over. He just wanted to go home and curl up, not being pocked and prodded by a doctor. Though he wished he coud have lied to her, but he knew that she was a good doctor, like him and was trained to spot simple illnesses.

"All right," she nodded a little wondering if she should make sure he was all right, "Will you be well enough to come in tomorrow?" she asked him, worry starting to creep into her voice.

"I should be, if not I'll call in and tell you." He smiled, his eyes warm as always, though Sarah could see the hint of fever in them and made a note to find someone else to come in tomorrow.

"Okay, just take care of yourself. If you're not feeling up to coming in, then call," she told him with a small nod and smile.

"I will," he nodded back, not liking the dizzy feeling he got when he did so.

John said his good byes to the two of them. Then doing the same to some of the patients doing the same. He grabbed his jacket from the break room. He left the clinic and headed for the tube station. He would have gone for a taxi, but it seemed a little frivolous when he wasn't with Sherlock. The tube jolted his body, making it start to ache even more as it stopped and started through the stations. He got off at the right station, thankful that Baker Street wasn't that far away. He walked quickly, hoping a little that Sherlock would be out, so that he could have some tea, and a little something to eat. Though he didn't give much hope of being able to keep it down. After that he had plans to lay down and have a little sleep. Maybe Sherlock would be able to leave him alone to sleep, for a few hours at least.

XxXxX

Sherlock lay deep in thought as he went over the latest information about the case he and John were now working on. It didn't take long for his mind to depart from the details. There wasn't much he could do until that night when their killer would be on the prowl once again. His mind wandered quickly over the John. Since the moment in the pool when he had gone to confront Moriarty and instead had first came across John, his heart had sunk, deeply. John was in danger, and that was something Sherlock didn't like to think about. He had taken to watching John after that, making sure that Moriarty wouldn't take him again.

The Consulting Detective wanted nothing more than to make sure that John would remain safe and sound and never put in harms way again. On the other hand, he knew that the dangerous life style they had, with chasing the criminals of London and solving the crimes that they had committed, helped in keeping the two of them sane. Sherlock shook his head a little and thought back to the case. He needed to break away from his thoughts of John.

Grey eyes closed on the world as he went back into his mind and thought of the case. He knew that the killer was a woman, but why? Why was she killing these men. Was it just because they were gay? Simple revenge, or was there something more, something deeper to it all. He would know better if he could meet with her, he would be able to figure it out after that. He heard the door to the flat creak a little as he opened his eyes again, a little annoyed that he hadn't heard the door the front door open. He smiled a little when he saw John walked into the room.

Sherlock looked him over and the smile dropped from his face as he said, "You're paler than you were when you left for work. You should not have gone." He said as he sat up on the sofa and waited for the man to come into the flat properly, instead of standing leaning against the doorframe.

"Sherlock," John sighed, shaking his head slightly at the blunt announcement. He went into the kitchen, and move around one of the experiments that had been left out. Thankful that this experiment was to do with soil samples and not bacteria or body parts. He filled the kettle and switched it on, prepping the mugs for tea.

"What is wrong exactly John?" he asked, wanting to know what type of shape his friend was really in. He stood up from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen and looked to him, watching him intently.

"Nothing, just not feeing my best. I just need some rest and I should be fine," He said, though he knew that wouldn't be until the case was at an end. It would take at least a few days, maybe a week or so to feel anything resembling fine, and that was only if he would be able to get the rest that he needed.

Sherlock moved forwards and moved John out of the way as he said, "Then go and sit down," he could tell by the small crease between John's eyes that the man was in pain. Sherlock also knew that John wasn't telling the truth of what was wrong, but he had no doubt he would find out soon enough.

"Sherlock," John huffed a little, "I'm fine enough to make some tea you know," he protested being almost man handled out of the way.

"John," Sherlock began as he turned to look to him, he noted that the other was leaning against the counter, "I can see that you are in pain, and that you are fighting yourself to remain standing at this moment in time. I also know that all you wish to do is to lay down and sleep," he told him, steel grey eyes locking onto the blue of his friends, hoping to get across that the other should take the hint and rest a while he could.

John sighed he knew that Sherlock was right. He just wasn't he type to lie around, even while he was ill. "I can still do things," he said as Sherlock pushed him out of the kitchen this time and into the living room, only to fall backwards onto the sofa. His body protested the man handling. It didn't take long for him to be lying back on the sofa, unconsciously closing his eyes as he began to relax.

"Here," Sherlock said a few moments later as he placed a mug of hot tea down on the coffee table. The consulting detective went over to his chair and sat down himself, placing his own mug on the end table, "You'll need to get as much rest as you can. I will be needing your help tonight," he added as he leaned back on the chair and look over to his tired and ill friend. He hated the fact that he would be dragging the ex solider out, but he had no choice for this case. He needed the extra pair of eyes.

John slumped a little at the admittance as he queried, "is there no way that you would be able to go on your own?" he really did want nothing more than to sleep for a few days.

"No," he replied, a tinge of guilt in his voice as he added, "I've been able to narrow down the place where she will strike next. You'll need to chose something a little different to wear for this case."

"And why would I need something different to wear?" he asked, though he had a feeling he really didn't want to know the answer.

"We're going to the Fiore's Nightclub tonight. It's a gay men only club, and I believe that it is the next target of our killer, going on her previous patterns." He smirked a little, knowing that the question was John's way of saying yes he would be going with Sherlock, "I think you might want to wear something, I don't know a little more flamboyant than you normally do on a date."

John's blue eyes narrowed, glancing over and seeing the smirk on the others face, he said, "Not going to happen Sherlock. We have enough rumours to contend with, without adding a few more to it." John kept a straight face as he thought about making those rumours ring true. He gently shook his head and cleared the image from his mind, before Sherlock was able to deduce it. He had no doubt that the other would in the end, but for now he wanted to keep it to himself.

"John, I will need you there," he said sincerely as he added, "I need you there so that you can make sure that the unwanted attention of the other patrons leave me alone. I need to look around and will not have time for me to be doing both of those. If I go there with someone that is seen as a partner then it is unlikely that I will attract attention from others." He said as he then thought of the things that he needed John to know before heading to the club later that night, "She will be quite small compared to most and will also be dressed well, in order to pull her victim in and get him to follower her out of the club. The club has more than one exit, so we need to keep an eye on them all." He finished.

John sighed as he picked up his tea and sat up a little, taking a sip before saying, "Just don't expect too much from me, my clubbing days are long gone."

"At least make an effort," he told him, sipping his own tea. He grimaced slightly, as he looked down at it. It may only be basic chemistry but he could never get it quite right. Unlike John, who got it perfect every time he made them one.

"Fine, but before that, I'm getting some sleep." John informed him as he drank the rest of his tea, letting it warm him up.

"You should, you'll need the energy." Sherlock nodded as he went back to thinking about the case and making sure that he hadn't missed anything.

John rolled his eyes and thought better of having anything to eat. His stomach was rolling a little from the tea he had just finished. He got up slowly got up and said goodnight to Sherlock, who made a small grunt in acknowledgement. He shook his head and carried on up the stairs, leaving Sherlock alone to his thoughts once again and hoping that he would feel reasonably all right when they went out later that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and the kudos, they keep me going with editing the story.
> 
> Edited - 26th August 2014


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Five**

Sherlock once again lay on the sofa, eyes closed and his hands steepled together under his chin. Thinking deeply, but not about the case, as most would suspect. He had lain there for almost an hour now. He had finished his mould experiment, and was thinking about John. The ex army doctor was a puzzle and one Sherlock still hadn't been able to figure out in the year that he had known him for. When he had first met the man, he didn't think he would stick around for long. The first thing he had wanted to do when he had met the man a second time was to get rid of that limp. And with a rush of adrenaline, it had gone, though it would come back ever now and then. Especially when the man talked to his sister for any length of time, and along with the limp came the tremor in his left hand.

The man could put up with him. When he was engrossed in his thoughts or picked up his violin to play at three in the morning, he put up with it. John had such strong morals as well, and with him only knowing Sherlock for around 24 hours; he had killed someone to protect him, to save his life. He had been kidnapped and his girlfriend had almost been killed along with him. But he remained and still went with him on cases. Then there was Moriarty, kidnapping him, strapping him in a vest of Semtex. After all that a lesser man would have turned tail and ran for their life. But John, no, not John, he thrived on it and stayed. He carried on working along side Sherlock as they worked on other cases.

John was a good friend, loyal and helping to guide him through the social niceties that he often ignored. He opened his eyes as he heard movement from upstairs, restless movement of man whose sleep was being interrupted. Sherlock swung around and sat up on the sofa. He frowned a little as he knew what John sounded like when his dreams took on a more disturbing tone, and this wasn't it. He sighed a little as he realised that it was because the other man was ill. It was the first time that he had known the man to become ill. There was a most disconcerting feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach when he saw his friend after he had returned from work.

He stood up and went over the desk, where his violin lay, waiting for him to once again pluck at the strings and grace them with his bow. He ran gentle fingers over the strings as he thought for a moment and then picked it up, plucking them, listening to the tone, smiling when it was still in tune. He picked up his bow and walked over to the window and began to play. The soothing tones reverberating through the room and up the stairs, into the room that belong to his friend, helping to sooth away the restlessness that he was suffering from.

A smile began to form on Sherlock's face as he played, his eyes closing of their own accord as he listened out for his friend. The sounds of distress began to cease quickly. In then end all he could hear was the music coming from the instrument that he was playing. His mind began to wander as he carried on playing, thinking a little more about John and how recently, the nightmares that the other had while Sherlock was awake could be soothed away with him playing the violin. It gave the man a funny feeling as he helped his friend, and one that he couldn't deny made him happy inside.

As he began another piece of music, he heard movement from upstairs,. This time it was not restlessness, or nightmares. He smiled as he could tell that the other was now awake and beginning to move around getting ready to come downstairs. Sherlock stopped playing and put the violin away this time, instead of leaving it out on the desk. Sherlock turned towards the stairs as John walked down them and into the room. Sherlock frowned in worry as he could see that the man was paler that he had been when he went to sleep. He didn't know if the other would even be able to come with him that night.

"Hey," John greeted him with a weak smile on his face, and his voice slightly scratch as he spoke.

"You look and sound even worse," Sherlock stated, as he looked him over, concern on his face.

John grimaced at the blunt statement, but knew that he wouldn't be able to deny it this time, "Yeah, I'll be fine for tonight though, just don't expect me to do much talking," he said, giving a small smile.

The detective nodded in agreement as he wince a little in sympathy at the scratchy and gravelled voice that his friend was now using, "No, I don't think it would give the image that we wish to portray," he gave a worried smile. He looked to the clock on the mantle and noticed the hour was starting to get late.

"Are you at least contacting Lestrade, telling him what we are doing?" he then asked as he went to the kitchen and made his way to the kitchen to make them both some tea.

"I don't want him and the bumbling fools that he works with interfering," He answered his friends' question.

John sighed as he listened to the insults, "Sherlock, we've talked about this. If we're going to be doing something that he needs to know about, which includes going under cover as it were, we have to call and let him know. Just in case something goes wrong." He said as he then added, "If we want the killer arrested as well, then we will also need him around to make the arrest."

"You talked about it," Sherlock said as he looked over to him and then finished, "I just listened, doesn't mean that I agreed to it." He walked over the kitchen and watched John make the tea.

"I'll call him in a moment," he sighed as he finished the tea and handed one of the mugs over to his friend.

"Hmm," he hummed as he looked to his friend, "I don't think it is a good idea for you to come with me, you're ill. I should do this alone," he murmured as he looked worriedly to John.

John looked to him, eyes narrowing at the thought of Sherlock going it alone, "Not going to happen Sherlock. Either I come with you, or we get someone from the Yard to go with you." He told him, his voice serious, "And I don't think you would want to make nice with Anderson all night." He told him as he moved past him and sat down on his chair. There was still around two hours before they would have to head to the club, and he was going to use that time to psych himself up for the noise that would be assaulting him and his headache for who knows how long.

Sherlock watch him go, contemplating what he could do to make the night as easy as possible on John. The other had made it clear that he wouldn't be left behind. He stood in the kitchen and sipped his tea, enjoying the taste. There was nothing better than John's tea, it was always perfect, unlike his own. He quickly went over what he needed to tell John about their undercover mission, "We will need to be on the look out for a small well dressed male. They will be flirting with a lot of men, mostly those in the age bracket of 20-25, blond haired, and tall, lithe." He said as he described the people the killer had targeted so far, "Their next victim with by like the others. The kill is going to be very slim, petite, make sure to keep that in mind, they would look androgynous. We'll be walking around the club, constantly in movement; thankfully it isn't the largest club out there. There are four fire exits around the edges of the dance floor. There is two main entrances and an entrance to a small outside area at the back." he added as he walked over to the other chair and sat down, facing John.

John looked over to him and nodded, wincing a little when it caused a sharp pain in his head, "Well, I'm calling Lestrade and telling him what we are doing. And where we will be as well. Since if we are going to come across this killer, and she does have a gun on her, it might be a good thing to have some backup hidden somewhere." He told him softly, giving him reasons for calling Lestrade.

Sherlock ran a hand through dark curls as he nodded reluctantly, "Fine," he said, only agreeing since he could see that John wouldn't be up to their normal routine when it came to chasing a criminal all over the roof tops of London.

The ex soldier felt as though he had won a war when Sherlock gave his reluctant agreement, "Food," he smiled to him as he picked up his phone from the side table and called Lestrade.

" _Detective Inspector Lestrade speaking,_ " came the strong and sure voice of the inspector as he answered his phone.

"Hey Greg," John greeted him, keeping his voice up beat and cheerful, though it still sounded rough and terrible.

" _What's wrong with you? You sound terrible._ " He asked his friend as concern crept into his voice.

"Just a sore throat," he answered, and before his friend could say anything else, or call him on the lie he had just given, he carried on, "Sherlock believes he knows where the killer will strike next. We're heading down to the Fiore's nightclub. We'll be inside looking around for her, thought you would want to know, and maybe have someone around in case we do get her."

Lestrade sighed at the information he had been given, " _Fine, but I would like someone else to go in with the two of you._ " He argued a little as he thought of all the things that could go wrong with undercover work.

"Not a good idea!" Sherlock called out, he had been able to hear what the Yarder had said and disagreed with someone going in with them.

" _Sherlock,_ " he growled a little as he then added, " _What about some plain clothes officers outside and around the building,_ " he offered, hoping that he would at least agree to that. He knew that Sherlock would be stubborn about having someone in the club with them and that could cause problems.

"That will be fine," John said as he gave Sherlock a look, making sure he didn't have anything against it. The younger man said nothing as John carried on and said, "Sherlock and I will be inside going around the club. As soon as we have something we'll send you a text. You'll be able to come in then, it wouldn't do to scare them away before we spot them." John nodded, as Sherlock drank the rest of his tea and nodded absently.

" _Come to the Yard, we'll get you a few things so that you can contact us more easily._ " He told John as he thought of an idea that would help them a little.

"Okay then, we'll head down to the Yard before we hit the club. See you in a bit." John nodded, wincing once again as he temporarily forgot about the headache that had been brewing since he had woke up.

" _Right, see you in a while._ " He said as he ended the call.

John looked to Sherlock as he said, "Okay, he'll have someone outside of the club, and he asked us to go to the Yard before we go to the club. I think I'll have a shower and change in a bit." He smiled a little as he shivered and huddled back into the chair, hoping for a little warmth as he stared into the half full mug of tea.

Sherlock sent the man a worried glance; he just hoped that John would be all right when this was over and that he wouldn't push himself too hard while helping on this case. He sighed as he watched him and then stood up, deciding that he would start getting ready now and not later. He quickly told John, who nodded absently as he left the room to shower and change, thinking what he could do to make sure John would be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and the kudos. I'm glad that you are all liking it so far, there is still a way to go until its over. Hope you are all enjoying the ride so far!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Six**

John winced as the loud thump of the music beat a steady and painful rhythm inside his head. The aches in his body protested each and every movement he made. The club was hot and tightly packed with clubbers. The high number of people made the place seem even hotter than it actually was. John still felt freezing and wished he had worn something a little thicker. Sherlock and John had been there for over an hour. Walking around the room searching. They had even dared to move across the dance floor, only to feel a few gropes as they went. The two had shared a look and decided that they wouldn't try that again unless they had no other choice but to go across the dance floor.

The killer had first struck two weeks ago, and in that small amount of time, she had killed five men. The fifth victim being found that morning, less than twenty-four hours after the fourth victim had been found. The killer was upping their game. Each time the killer struck the level of violence towards the victim had gone up. With five victims, the police were keen to catch her as soon as possible. The gay community had been informed of what was going on. Each club in the area had been given posters and notices to make sure their patrons tried to keep themselves safe. But while each kill was becoming vicious, she was also becoming sloppy, and was beginning to make mistakes. These mistakes were leading Sherlock straight to her.

The two men made their way around the dance floor, keeping to the edge of the dance floor. Neither of them wanted to chance going out onto the dance floor to have their butt pinched and groped again. John looked back towards Sherlock, whose eyes were scanning the crowd as he tried to locate their killer or to see if she was actually in the club. John looked his friend over and had to admit that he looked a lot different than normal. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, which were indecently tight on the young man, as well as a shimmery silk plum coloured shirt, with three buttons undone at the top. In the visible gap a pendant hung, a small silver bee. John had never seen him dress so casually. It was different.

John himself had gone for something similar. Though Sherlock had convinced him to wear his bright red shirt, instead of the dusky blue one he had first picked out. His jeans were black, and he wore his old army boots. They had been able to leave when Sherlock ran to his room and came back, with his dog tags hanging from a finger. He had reluctantly put them on, was beginning to get annoyed when they kept falling out of his shirt. He had done his shirt up not long after they got to the club, but Sherlock had looked to him and undone them, telling him to leave them undone, running fingers across his skin as he pulled the dog tags out. John had been a little confused by the action, but said nothing as they carried on going around the club.

" _Any luck?_ " came a voice over the ear piece that the two were wearing, there was also a small microphone near the collar of their shirts so they would be able to talk back to them. Thankfully it was sensitive enough to be able to pick up their voices in the noisy club.

"No, nothing yet," John said as he looked around the crowd, hoping he would be able to spot something. A feeling of lethargy came over him as he rubbed his eyes a little and bit back a yawn as he looked to Sherlock, who was now staring intently towards the far side of the room, "Sherlock?" he asked, wondering what it was that had captured the genius' attention.

Sherlock didn't answer, as he started walking towards what ever it was that he had seen. John quickly followed him. It didn't take John long to figure out that they were heading for the exit on the north side of the building, "Lestrade," John said as he carried on after Sherlock, who was a few meters ahead of him now, "North side, Sherlock's heading out and I'm following," he told the detective that was listening in.

" _Okay, we're heading there now,_ " he replied.

Sherlock went through the doors first, as John rushed to catch up to him, the crowd of dancers surging around him, slowing him down. He went out the doors as he saw Sherlock running off, he sighed a little as he told Lestrade, "We're heading towards the back alleys," he then started running as well. He followed his flatmate, who was still in sight. The man came to a stop and John stopped near him as he was waved to stay back a little.

They could just see a small male looking figure pointing a gun at a taller male that was stumbling a little. They watched as the man stumbled to the ground. The smaller looking on with glee as the taller man finally fell to the ground fully. Glazed eyes looked up at the person who had brought him out of the club.

"All the same, all the same type of filth. All thinking about nothing but cock." The person ranted, it was obvious that it was truly the killer that they were after.

Sherlock moved a little closer, brushing on something making a noise. John took a step back, making sure that he wouldn't be able to be seen. It was too late for him to drag Sherlock back and out of sight, as the killer turned and aimed a gun at him. You could tell in that moment that the figure was actually female.

"Who…" she started to say as she kept the gun up and pointed towards Sherlock, making sure to keep him in her sights.

"Just a concerned patron of Fiore's." Sherlock said as he moved around a little, making sure that he didn't want the woman to look towards where he had been. Sherlock didn't want her to be able to see John.

"Take another step and you'll be dead," she then told him as she had enough of him moving around. Her brown eyes were like ice as they now stared at him, disgust within them.

John gave an inaudible sigh as he watched Sherlock draw her attention so that she was now facing away from where he was hiding. He looked to the man on the floor who was trembling and looking around, confusion bright in his eyes. Sherlock got the woman's attention again and the gun pointed away from Sherlock for a moment. John made his move, ignoring his aching body. He moved quickly and stealthy behind her and grabbed the gun arm, twisting it enough that she had no choice but to drop it. She tried to twist away from him. John's eyes went wide as he saw a flash of something in his vision as he moved slightly. He grabbed her wrist and put pressure on it, making her drop the knife that had gashed his arm open a little. He could hear the pounding of feet fast approaching from behind them as the knife clanged to the ground.

"I'll take her from here," Lestrade said as he took the woman from John and cuffed her. He looked over to John in concern, he could see the rip in the shirt.

John nodded and ignoring the niggling pain in his arm, and the slow flow of blood that was oozing from it. He went over the victim that was still lying on the ground, "What did you give him?" He asked the woman, as he looked to her, glaring.

"Humph," she huffed as she turned away from him and said nothing.

"Insulin," Sherlock said, as he knew knelt nearby looking at an insulin pen that had been used and dropped.

John nodded and then called out, "Get me some pop, a can of something, move it!" He looked to Donovan as he made his order, "Make sure it has plenty of sugar in it and call an ambulance," he instructed as she ran off and he looked down to the man that was weakly trying to get up, "Hey, lay still, everything is all right now," he comforted as he gave the man a smile, reassuring him that everything was fine now and that he was safe.

Sally came back quickly and handed him a can of cola, "Here," she said as she handed it over.

John nodded and opened it, helping the man sit up enough and got him to start drinking it, "Come on," he encouraged, "Drink as much as you can." He told him softly as they heard the sirens in the background get closer.

It didn't take long for the two paramedics to come up and see him, "What is it?" one of them asked as he knelt down beside John looking at him.

John looked to him and said, "Insulin overdose, I've got him to drink a sugary drink, so that will help a little."

"Okay, thank you. I'll take if from here and Nikki will see to your arm." He said as he noticed the gash that was still bleeding, though you could barely tell with the red shirt that John was wearing.

"Huh?" he asked as he then remembered the knife slicing into his arm, "It'll be fine. I can take care of it later on." He protested as Nikki touched him on the shoulder and got him to stand.

"Well, why don't I just clean it and stitch it up." She told him with a smile on her face.

"Just do it John," Sherlock said, impatience clear for all to hear in his voice. Though there was something else in his voice as well.

John sighed and nodded as Nikki quickly got to work. He was just glad that he didn't have to head to the hospital to have it done. He counted the twenty stitches before she stopped and it was cleaned again and bandaged.

"Keep it clean…" she was about to tell him what he needed to know.

He shook his head and chuckled, "I'm a doctor, so I know the drill." He smiled to her as he turned his head and gave a harsh cough. His body beginning to ache once again as the adrenalin faded from him.

"Sounds like you need a refresher course," she teased him as she added, "you don't sound too good."

John rolled his eyes a little and nodded slightly, "I don't need a course, I just got dragged out" he stood and then went over to Sherlock, who was now standing next to Lestrade after he had sent the woman off with Donovan to the station.

"Thanks again Sherlock, you as well John," he smiled as he looked from the Consulting Detective to the ex army doctor.

"No problem," John smiled as he shivered, the heat of the club gone, and the thrill of the adrenaline now worn off fully. He was achy, cold and tired and wanted nothing more than to be warm and cosy in his bed.

"What a lift home?" he asked the two of them as he drew a concerned eye over the smaller male.

"No thank you," Sherlock said quickly.

"Okay. I'll come to the flat tomorrow to get your statements and make sure to be in." Lestrade said eyebrow raised, as he glanced to John, who was becoming paler by the minute. Lestrade could see that the doctor was beginning to sway a little. He looked tired and worn out as he stood next to Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded his head as he grabbed John's arm, more to steady him than to drag him around. He led the way to the main street, and called for a taxi as soon as he got there. Lestrade shook his head as one quickly pulled up and the two got in. Lestrade then turned back to the scene and sighed, it was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, and the Kudos, glad people are liking it so far, do hope you continue to do so.
> 
> Edited - 9th September 2014


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Seven**

The cab was cold and John subconsciously moved a little closer to Sherlock. He could feel the warmth coming from the other. He could not help but enjoy it. Sherlock looked down to him and wrapped an arm around him, pulling the shorter man against him. He hoped that he was able to keep the other warm. Sherlock was concerned since he could feel the heat coming from John.

"Sherlock?" John questioned, wondering what the other was doing, a small frown on his face as he glanced up.

"You're cold John, you are wearing a shirt only at the moment. Though I do believe that you have a fever of 38.4°C at this time." He said as he looked down to him, "Sharing body heat will help for now and keep the chills away until we get home. Then when we get home, you can go straight to bed." He added as he held him tightly. John tried to move away for a moment, before giving in and enjoying the moment, relaxing against Sherlock's side.

Almost fifteen minutes later the cab pulled up at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock looked to John, reluctant to wake him from the light doze that he had fallen into. He woke him up and the two climbed out of the cab, with Sherlock paying this time. John swayed a little as he stood, Sherlock moved to him and steadied him as he then helped the other up the stairs. John took off his jacket and he made his way over to the sofa and lay down on it. He didn't have the strength to make his way up the stairs to his room. He lay back and closed his eyes. He could hear Sherlock moving around in the kitchen.

John startled a little and his eyes flew open from the light doze he had drifted in when Sherlock said, "Here, hot lemon tea with some honey," he placed it down on the coffee table and took John's usual chair instead of his own.

John looked over to him, a grateful smile on his face, "Thanks," he said as he started to sit up a little, only to flop back down when a wave of dizziness over took him. He closed his eyes against it as the room began to spin a little and settled back down, not wanting to move at all now.

Sherlock looked to him, a worried frown making its way onto his face. John was pale, very pale compared to how he was normally. The taller male knew that dragging him out that night had brought nothing but harm to the shorter man. John was sweating and shaking as well as the fever made itself known. He watched as John placed an arm over his eyes, blocking out the light in the room.

He stood up and turned off the light in the room, plunging it into near darkness. He went over to the table and turned on one of the lamps, letting its soft glow fill the room. He looked over John once more and then went to his bedroom and grabbed his quilt and pillow from it and took them out to the living room. He dropped the pillow onto the floor and covered John with the quilt.

"Wha…?" John questioned as he moved his arm and opened his eyes, only to meet the concerned gaze of Sherlock's grey eyes.

"I don't believe you will be moving much from there tonight. Though I would suggest that you change into something more comfortable. I can get something from your room and you can change in the bathroom, or out here. I wont be getting any sleep tonight. So I'll watch over you." He said, his voice soft as he looked down to him and then knelt beside him.

"I'll be fine after a good rest," he said with a slight shake of his head, feeling a little sick as the room spun even more.

"We'll see," he said as he looked into the unfocused gaze of his friends. He lifted his head up and placed the pillow underneath. He ran a hand through short blond hair and sighed a little. Sherlock stood up and left John alone once again as he went up the stairs to the doctors bedroom.

Sherlock walked in and looked around the room, it was neat and tidy. Though he didn't expect anything else from the ex army doctor. He walked over to the bed and saw the pyjamas that John normally wore, neatly folded at the bottom of the bed.

He walked down the stairs and went into the living room and stopped. A smile forming on his face as he could hear the soft snores coming from the other. He walked over and looked down, John was almost invisible, as he had pulled the quilt over his head. All Sherlock could see were small tufts of blond hair poking out at the top. He smiled as he placed the clothing down on the back of the sofa and made sure that John was going to be warm enough. He grinned a little more as he saw that John had been able to drink some of the tea he had made for the other. He took out the partially empty cup and took it to the kitchen.

Sherlock walked out of the kitchen and over to the bookcase on the other side of the room and looked through the titles, he had a few that he hadn't read yet, and picked one out. He went over to John's chair and sat down, angling it a little more so he could easily see John. He settled down and with a last glance to John he began to read his book. Only stopping when he heard the other move, or when he looked up to check on him.

XxXxX

John sighed as he settled back down on the sofa. He had just changed into the pyjamas that Sherlock had brought down earlier. The small task of changing had exhausted him of what little energy he had gathered during his sleep. John looked to the dog tags he had just taken off. He put them down on the coffee table and almost fell back onto the sofa. He had no strength left after changing. Sherlock went over to him and covered him with the quilt before sitting down. He didn't know why the other wouldn't just let him go to his own room and sleep off the flu that he had come down with.

John had woken earlier with Sherlock watching him, his steel grey eyes full of worry and concern. It had puzzled the doctor a little, as he didn't think that Sherlock would be the type to worry about someone when they were ill. He looked over to Sherlock once again, only to find the other was yet again, watching him intently once again.

"What is it Sherlock?" he asked, wincing as his throat protested and sent him a sharp reminder that he should remain quiet for a while.

"Would you like another drink?" He asked without answering John's question.

John nodded, thinking it wouldn't hurt his throat at all. It may even help, "Would appreciate it, thank you." He replied softly as he brought his hand up and rubbed at his throat.

Sherlock stood up, shooting John a concerned look. He went to the kitchen and quickly prepared another Lemon tea with honey. He walked back in and placed it on the coffee table. Sherlock looked to the dog tags that rested on the table and picked them up. He had only glanced at them when he had retrieved them for John to wear. He ran his thumb over the embossed lettering and looked to his friend.

"I'll put these back in a moment," he told him as he put them in his pocket for now.

John nodded his head a little as he glanced to the mug. He gave a little sigh, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. Sherlock rushed over to him and helped sit the struggling man up. It took a few minutes until John was finished, he lent against Sherlock tiredly and closed his eyes as his head started to pound even more because of the coughing. His throat felt raw, and the room was spinning with no end in sight as he shivered. He welcomed the warmth that he was leaning against.

"I hate this," John murmured as he unconsciously moved back a little more, wanting the warmth of Sherlock to surround him.

"Drink a little and then go back to sleep," Sherlock told him softly, his voice soothing as he ran a hand through the short blond hair. He hoped to give just a little comfort to his friend.

"Okay," John spoke, his voice becoming harsh and gravely. He reached out a shaking hand and took hold of the cup. He almost dropped it as he brought it closer. Sherlock helped, making sure that he wouldn't drop it, as he took a few sips. He grimaced a little at the taste. He wasn't that much of a fan of lemon, or honey, but at least it would help to sooth the raw feeling in his throat, "Thanks," he whispered as he put the cup back a few minutes later, after drinking almost all of it.

"Lay back and sleep John," Sherlock said softly as he helped the man lay back down. Carding his fingers through the short hair. He watched as blue eyes began to close and then remained that way as John fell asleep once more. Sherlock remained there, knelt on the floor, running his fingers through the fine hair. Sherlock relished the closeness between them. He gave a sigh as he stood up and went back to the book and chair, once more watching over John as he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos. 
> 
> I'm so happy that people are enjoying this story!
> 
> Edited - 16th September 2014


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

No Pain, No Gain

Chapter Eight

Sherlock sat in his chair, facing towards the sofa, watching over his friend. A frown had been present on his face for a number of hours. John had begun to shiver and toss around restlessly in his sleep. Occasionally it would seem as though John was waking up, but he was never conscious enough to pay attention to anything around him. The consulting detective knew that it would be a few more days of this at least, before John would be back to normal.

Sherlock looked towards the windows, he could see the sun beginning to shine through the curtains as it rose over the London skyline. He placed his book on the end table and jumped from his chair. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed one of the few bottles of water that they had in there and brought it into the living room as John began to stir on the sofa once again. Sherlock could see that John was more with it this time.

"Drink," Sherlock said as he undid the bottle top and passed it over to the ill man.

John blinked as he looked up from where he lay, "Tha…" he tried to say, but ended up starting to cough as he then struggled to sit up.

Once again Sherlock was knelt down beside him, and helped to sit. When John had finished his coughing, he lent tiredly against Sherlock. The other brought the bottled water forwards to let him have a few sips. John felt grateful as he drank a few sips of the cool liquid.

"Thanks," John whispered his voice rough, as he then pushed the bottle away when he had enough water. Tired blue eyes looked up into steel grey, "You're pretty good at this caring lark," he joked lightly.

"I had a good teacher," Sherlock smiled down to him as he the helped the ill man lay back down and settled the quilt around him, "I'll put some soup on for you, you haven't had anything to eat in quite some time."

"Make sure you eat as well," John told him, knowing that the other would not have had anything to eat for a while. Maybe even longer than John had gone without food.

Sherlock looked down at him and nodded, he would do as asked for once, but only because of one reason. And that was because if he didn't he could easily picture John getting up and making them both something to eat. Sherlock walked into the kitchen and grabbed a tin of soup from the cupboard and emptied it into a pan, warming it up as he then prepared himself some toast.

John moved around on the sofa a little and was able to sit up, he hated it when he was ill. The weakness of his body as it tried to fight off whatever ailed him. He looked around the room and saw that the sun was now shining brightly through the gap in the think curtains. He smiled a little as he heard Sherlock moving around in the kitchen. After almost ten minutes he walked back out with a tray, a bowl full of soup and a small plate with some toast on it.

"Here, soup," he said as he lay the tray on John's lap and took the small plate for himself.

"Thanks," he smiled as he took up the spoon and began to eat. At first his stomach protested, since he hadn't had anything for a while. But he was soon enjoying the hot chicken soup. John watched Sherlock out of the corner of his eye, making sure that the other was eating as he promised.

"You don't have to watch me," Sherlock told him, a smile making it way onto his face as he could tell the other was concerned once more for his health and not his own, "I am eating."

"I can see, just wanting to make sure. You've done that a few times, made yourself some toast and then just left it to go cold." He said as he finished his soup quickly, enjoying the warmth as it spread through his aching body.

"Go…" he started to say as his phone beeped loudly in the room, he lent over and picked it up and said, "Text from Lestrade, he's on his way over for our statements. I've written mine down already, but you'll have to talk with him."

"Okay, little early isn't it?" John asked as he wondered what time it actually was.

"It's a little before nine. He most likely wants our statements now so when he gets to the Yard he will be able to start his interview with the woman." Sherlock told him as he sent a text back.

"Well, if he is on his way. I should at least get dressed," he spoke softly as he moved the quilt away and placed his empty bowl on the coffee table. He started to get up, as Sherlock did the same, "and to have a shower," he grimaced. He felt a little grubby thanks to sweating most of the night.

"I believe that you should remain laying down, I don't want you to become worse. You were feverish during the night, and you would wake up and not see or recognise anything around you." Sherlock said softly as he protested John moving around. He placed his hands on the others shoulder, trying to get him to remain on the sofa and lay back down.

John looked up at him from where he was sat, "I can still take it easy in clothes and just relax of the sofa, not doing nothing but talking." He croaked a little, wincing as he rubbed his sore throat.

"It would be best if you remained lying down and getting some proper rest. Though it would be an even better idea if you were to head to bed for a while, you can use mine," Sherlock said as he thought about it a little more and then added his reason, "that way I'll be closer should you need me."

John shook his head a little, "Sherlock, I'm going to have a shower and get dressed and sit here on the sofa doing nothing more than talking. I know what I can ad can't handle," he sighed as he moved Sherlock's hands out the way and stood up, feeling a little dizzy as he did so.

Sherlock saw his friend sway and he grasped his arms to steady him, "And you look as though you are about to fall over," the Detective sighed as he helped John stand and remain on his feet.

"Please Sherlock, I don't want to be lying around when Lestrade comes," he looked to him, his blue eyes almost begging him to understand.

"Fine, head to the shower and I'll brig you some clothes. Keep the door open and if you need help, call me," Sherlock told him as he helped him over to the bathroom.

John nodded in agreement and went into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. Sherlock ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and entered John's room. He went around the room and found some of the more comfortable clothes that his friend would wear, a worn pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a warm looking jumper. He took out the dog tags that were still in his pocket and put them back on the hook, where he had gotten them from yesterday. He gave a small smile as he then left the room and jogged back down the stairs.

"Clothes, John," he said as he went into the bathroom, he could see the smaller male through the foggy shower curtain.

"Thanks," came a horse reply.

Sherlock nodded to himself as he then walked out of the bathroom and into the living room. He looked around the room and picked up the bowl and plate and took them back into the kitchen with the tray. He grabbed the quilt, knowing that John wouldn't use it while Lestrade was there. He went to his room and dumped it on his bed and picked up one of his slightly warmer blankets and took that out with him instead. He laid it on the back of the sofa, in case it was needed. He walked back into the kitchen and began to start some tea for himself, John and Lestrade, since he would be coming alone this time.

He sat down when he had finished setting the room to some semblance of order. He didn't really care as such, but knowing that John would end up doing so if he hadn't. He didn't have to wait long for John to walk back into the living room. He looked even paler now, his jumper in his arms. He almost flopped down on the sofa, as he sat back down, not really having the energy to sit down properly.

"Sherlock, could you re-bandage my arm," he asked softly as he looked to the first aid kit that he had brought into the room with him.

Sherlock nodded and got up, going over the sofa and sitting down next to John. The doctor held out his arm for the other to re-clean and bandage back up. Sherlock worked in silence as he got a look at it, noting there was no redness around it, "Looks to be fine," he said softly as he began to wrap it.

"Yeah," John nodded tiredly as he put on his jumper when Sherlock finished, and then leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes for a moment.

Sherlock looked to him and took in the slight shivers and the heat that was radiating from his friend, "I still think you should head to bed, I doubt that Lestrade will mind if you leave your statement until you are feeling better."

"Rather get it over and done with now, than have to wait around," he answered softly, "Thanks, by the way," he then said to Sherlock as the younger man put everything back away into the first aid kit.

"You're welcome," he smiled a little as he got back up and went over to the chair again as he suggested, "Lay down John, I have a feeling that you'd just fall down otherwise."

"I'm fine Sherlock," John told him as he huddled back into the sofa and wrapped his arms around him. They could faintly hear someone knocking on the door down stairs, and knew that it would be Lestrade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comment and the kudos. I'm so happy that you are enjoying this fic so far. We still have a very long way to go, as I have written 50 chapters and the plot still isn't finished.
> 
> Edited - 23rd September 2014


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

No Pain, No Gain

Chapter Nine

Sherlock and John were settled in the living room of 221B, they could hear Mrs Hudson as she answered the front door. Who ever it was she let them in and they rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The door was soon opened and Lestrade walked in a little and looked at the two of them, "Hello," he smiled a little as he frowned when he got a good look at John. He looked pale and tired, "Did you even get any sleep last night John?" he asked the ex army doctor.

"I got some," John replied with a small smile on his face. he sat up straight on the sofa as he shivered slightly as he left the warm spot.

"Doesn't look like it," Lestrade said as he walked into the living room more.

"Tea?" John asked as he began to stand, only for Sherlock stand up and go over to him, pushing him back down on the sofa, "Sherlock," he said, exasperated as he looked to his concerned flatmate.

"Stay there John, I'll make the tea, already have it all set up," Sherlock told him as he went into the kitchen to finish making the tea. He soon brought out a tray with three cups and handed them all out.

"This is a turn up," Lestrade smiled, "I don't think you have ever made me a drink before. Hell, I didn't even know you could make tea," he snorted a little as he looked at the mug in wonder, and wondered if it might be poisoned, he wouldn't put it past Sherlock to test something on him. He had heard some of the horror stories, thanks to John.

"I can make tea just fine Lestrade, you don't have to worry about any poisons or anything else being in it," he told him as he saw the look the mug of tea was getting from the Detective Inspector.

"It's not too bad," John smiled over to him as he picked up his own mug carefully, as his hands shaking slightly, still feeling the cold.

Lestrade look him over and frowned, he could see that the other man was shivering and from where he sat on one end of the sofa, he could feel a lot of heat coming from him, as he asked, "You all right John? You don't look well at all," his voice was full of concern for his friend.

"He is ill, so if you could make this brief Lestrade, I would be thankful. And I have no doubt that John would be thankful as well," Sherlock said as he looked from where he was now sat in John's chair.

"What's wrong?" Lestrade asked them both, curious as to what was wrong with his slightly younger friend.

"Nothing," John answered before Sherlock could, giving his flatmate a look that told him to shut up.

"All right, if you say so," he said as he then looked to them, one at a time, not believing what John was saying.

John shivered violently as he curled his hands around the mug of tea, making sure that he didn't spill any. Sherlock jumped up and grabbed the blanket that he had placed on the back of the sofa earlier and laid it over John, quickly making sure he was covered fully. "John, shut up," he told him as he saw that John was about to protest the blanket and being, basically, tucked in.

John shook his head and sighed, but didn't argue. He huddled down into the blanket a little more as he started to feel warmer, "Fine," he mumbled, "thanks," he added softly as he looked to Lestrade and asked, "So what do you need from us?"

"I just need you to tell me what happened at the club and in the alley, and that should be it. And of course for you to sign it at the end." He smiled to them as Sherlock sat back down.

"I've already wrote mine out," the detective said as he handed over a few pieces of paper, "I'll sign and date it in a moment if that is what you need." He added as Lestrade took them.

The Detective Inspector looked them over, reading a little of it and nodded, it would do, "Do that," he told Sherlock as he then turned to John and said, "Right John, what about you? Can you tell me what happened?"

"Sure," he said is voice went quiet a little, he tried to clear his throat and started to cough instead, it took a few moments until he could get his breath back, "Sorry." He apologised, Lestrade shrugged it off and waited for him to tell him. John outlined what had happened and what they had done, and how he had ended up hurt. He was thankful he only had to stop once more to cough, though his voice did sound harsh and raspy at the end of his statement.

Lestrade winced in sympathy as John finished, and as he carried on writing for a few moments, and then said to him, "Thanks for that," he said as he then looked over the written statement and said to John, just read through that and sign it if you don't mind." He told him as he handed them over.

John took them and nodded as he read over the statement and signed it, "Here," he said as he handed it back.

"Thanks for that," Lestrade said as he nodded to the two of them, taking the one that Sherlock had done from him again, "I shouldn't need any more from you." He added.

"Good, leave so John can rest," Sherlock said rudely as he watched the Detective Inspector.

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed, only to break out into coughs.

Lestrade saw that the mug in John's hands was about to fall, he reached out and grabbed it from the ill man and left it on the coffee table. John soon bent forwards a little as he struggled to get enough air. Sherlock turned worried eyes to him as he stood up and went over, and started to rub his back gentle as he waited for the fit to pass. As soon as it was over, John flopped back against the sofa, closed his eyes. His breathing was harsh, and he now felt light headed.

"Right," Lestrade said as he stood up, "I'll leave the two of you be, John take care of yourself. Sherlock, make sure to look after him," he told the two of them as he watch John lean towards Sherlock as he began to recover his breath.

"I will" Sherlock told the man with a nod as he looked up for a moment, before looking back to John.

Lestrade stood there for a moment longer before he left the room. Seeing Mrs Hudson coming up the stairs. He left the flat and headed to the Yard. He would be able to start the interview with Kelly Shields when he got back. So far the woman they had arrested hadn't spoken a word to them. Lestrade was hoping that they would be able to get her to say something about what she had done, though they had plenty of evidence against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, so happy that you are enjoying the story so far.
> 
> Edited 16th December


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Ten**

Mrs Hudson smiled to Detective Inspector Lestrade as she saw him out of the house. She then headed up stairs, to see how her boys were doing. She knew that they had been on a case last night, since they didn't get in till late. She knocked on the partially closed door and walked in.

"Hello Dears," she smiled warmly as she went into the living room, only to frown a little when she saw Sherlock hovering and kneeling on the floor near John, "what's wrong?" she asked as she hurried over, worried about what was going on, she hadn't seen Sherlock this concerned in a long time about someone.

"John isn't well at the moment, Mrs Hudson," Sherlock answered her softly.

"Oh dear," she said softly as she came over and placed a cool hand onto John's forehead to check his temperature, "you're burning up John," she said as she ran a hand through his short blond hair.

"It shouldn't last much longer Mrs Hudson," he smiled up at her as he opened his eyes.

"Go and hanged into something comfy and get into bed, sleep is what you need. I'll also bring something ice up for you for dinner," she told him as she looked over to Sherlock and then said, "you make sure he has something to drink on hand, he'll need to keep hydrated, and make sure you get him into bed, he needs proper rest." She admonished him with a soft and warm smile on her face.

"I will Mrs Hudson, and thank you" Sherlock nodded as he then looked to John, who was about to protest the orders that were being given out, "I'll make sure he gets to bed," he added as he shook his head a little, stopping John from saying something, for the moment.

John sighed at being ordered to bed, he knew that it was for the best that he go to bed and get some proper rest, "okay, I'm going," he said, Sherlock helped him up and was led to the detectives room and not his own, "Sherlock, I can go to my own room you know."

"I know, but his way, I'll be close by in case something happens," he said, a slight hint of worry coming through his smooth voice.

John hummed a little as he spoke softly, "Sherlock," he began to say only to be interrupted.

"John, I just wish to make sure that you get better quickly, and having you run up and down stairs when you need to go bathroom at all, or when you want something will not help. Going to my room will, since its right next to it, and I will be able o hear you if you do need something." He reasoned, hoping that John would listen to it.

John nodded and left it at that, seeing that he wasn't going to get Sherlock to agree to let him head to his own room to rest any time soon. "Fine, but as soon as I feel a little better, I'm going to my own room." He was already making plans to head up to his own room as soon as Sherlock was out of the way and focused on one of his experiments.

Sherlock looked to him and shook his head a little, he could already see the workings of his friend, "Don't even think it John, I won't be leaving you alone long enough."

John blinked as he was set down on Sherlock's bed, "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to keep his shock at Sherlock figuring him out, out of his voice, though he shouldn't be too surprised but Sherlock's deduction of his plans.

"You were thinking about trying to go up to your own room as soon as I was out of the way. That is not going to happen, so stop thinking it." He told him as he looked down to the man and then said, "I'll get you some clean pyjamas," he then quickly left the room, feet pounding on the stairs to his friends bedroom and then coming back just as quick.

Sherlock handed over the dark green pyjamas that he had found and left he room, so that John could change in private. He walked back into the room a few minutes later to see that John was sitting on his bed, looking at the door as he came back in. John was now in his pyjamas and looking tired and worn out.

"Come on," Sherlock said as he helped John get into the bed properly and under the covers.

He heard John mumbled a little and smiled as he watched him quickly fall asleep as soon as his head settled onto the pillow. He left the room and walked into the living room and looked around. He tided up the living room, moving the blanket that John had been using to lay on the back of the sofa. He grabbed the bottle of water that John had only drank a little of and emptied it out into the kitchen sink. He put it in with the recycling.

He walked into the bathroom and grabbed the Paracetamol that was in the medicine cabinet. He went back to the kitchen and grabbed another water bottle from the fridge and took it back to the bedroom, placing them on the bedside table where John was lying. He then walked over to the other side of the bed and gentle climbed in, not wishing to disturb John as he did so. He glance over once more and smiled as he turned on the lamp and picked up the book he had been reading a few nights ago and opened it. He began to read in the soft light that was coming from the lamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the awesome comments and the kudos. I'm so happy that you are all like the fic so far, especially as it is my first time in the fandom.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

No Pain, No Gain

Chapter Eleven

John woke up slowly after a few hours of sleep, he looked around the room, and couldn't help as he shivered violently, moving towards something warm. He blearily looked around towards the warmth and saw Sherlock relining on the bed with him, reading. He puzzle for a few moment, wondering what the other was doing there, and remembered that the other said he wouldn't have chance to go to his own room, John guessed this would be why he wouldn't.

"Boys!" came a call as someone walked into the flat.

"In my room Mrs Hudson," Sherlock called back as he smiled down to John for a small moment, and then looked to the door.

"Hello, I brought you both some lunch, nothing to heavy for you though John," she smiled softly as she walked in with a full tray of food for the both of them.

Sherlock helped John sit up and said to her, "Thank you Mrs Hudson, I don't know what we would do with out you," causing her to blush a little at the praise. He then looked over to John and told him, "There is some water on the side along with some paracetamol, take them."

John nodded a little dumbly as he reached over to them and took the tablets, taking a nice long drink of the water while he could. Mrs Hudson looked him over and sighed softly as she settled the tray onto the bedside table and straightened the blankets out over him.

"There," she said softly as she put the tray on John's lap, before taking one of the plates off it, and handing it over to Sherlock, "Now, eat up and I'll being dinner up later on." She told them, and then left the room, leaving the to eat in silence.

John felt a little better with something in his stomach, "Why are you on the bed?" he asked as he added, "I thought you would have gone back tot he living room."

"I can't watch over you from in there, I need to be able to be with you to make sure you don't need anything," was his simple answer as he ate the turkey salad sandwich, looking forward to eating the scone that Mrs Hudson had added to his place. She knew that he loved her scones, and would bake them for him whenever she had the chance to.

"I can call you if I need something," John told him with a slight shake of his head.

"I might not have heard you from in there," he said as he looked to him and then carried on eating. "You have a slight sore throat, and I can tell that the level of your voice has gone down a little." He added as he watched John eat slowly.

They could hear as Mrs Hudson cleaning up around the flat as they ate. Twenty minutes later she was back in the room, taking the places and tray away as she said softly, "I want to check your temperature John," she gave him a look as son as he opened his mouth to protests, "No arguments, I want to make sure it's not too high."

"Okay," he gave in, knowing that he would have to, he could already see the look of hurt and disappointment starting to form in her warm eyes as soon as he had opened his mouth to protest. John didn't want to do anything that would upset the motherly woman.

She smiled and nodded her head, as she quickly left the room, and then returned a few minutes later. She put the thermometer into his mouth and waited for it to beep, she pulled it out and read it, saying, "It's a little high, 38.8°C," she told him as she could see the questioning look n his face.

"Okay, a low grade fever," he nodded, it wasn't that high to worry about, as long as they kept it like hat, "Thank you for checking Mrs Hudson, and that you for lunch as well, it was loverly." He smiled to her warmly.

"You're welcome," she smiled back as she then told him, "now you lay back down," he did as he was told and settled back down, as he saw Sherlock watching him intently. He frowned as he wondered what the other was thinking this time. Mrs Hudson smoothed the blanket down once again and said, "There, now you get some rest dear, Sherlock you make sure you watch over him."

Sherlock nodded to her and said, "Of course."

She nodded and smiled to them once more as she left the room. John looked up to Sherlock and shook his head a little, knowing that Sherlock wont be leaving him along anytime soon. Sherlock picked up his book and began to read again, ignoring the look that John was sending his way. He was about to say something when John's phone began to ring. He reached over him and picked it up, thinking to himself that he should have put it on silence and left it in the living room. He sighed a little when he saw the name.

"It's your sister," he said as he handed it over to the ill man.

"Hello Harry," he said softly as he answered the phone as soon as he took it from Sherlock.

" _Hello Johnny,_ " Harry almost yelled into the phone, the doctor could tell that she was already drink, and a quick glance at the clock in his room told him that it was only two in the afternoon.

"What do you want?" he asked, giving a small cough as he wondered what she wanted this time.

" _Can't I talk to my little brother these days?_ " she asked him, her voice taking on a bitter tone as she did so.

"Of course you can, but you know I don't like talking to you when you are drunk." He sighed a little as he closed his eyes, he really didn't want to deal with her at all at the moment.

" _What, my perfect little brother, wanting nothing to do with his loving sister. Typical of you isn't it._ " She said scornfully as she snorted down the line.

"It has nothing to do with that, all you want one again is to talk and pick a fight, as you always do when you're drink. It's your life, you need to decide what to do with I, and as far as I, and I have no doubt, other can see is that you drink it away," he told her, his voice going hard.

" _Well, at least I'm not a washed up old soldier and doctor that can't even get a proper job,_ " she snored as she added, " _Washed up, used and nothing to do anymore since you've been shot, liming around like a cripple._ " Her mean words cutting John like a knife.

"Harry…" he said as he couldn't think of anything to say his heart frozen at the tone of voice that his own sister was using, he tried again to say something, only for his words to be taken away when he started coughing. He rolled over onto his side, barely keeping a hold of the phone in his hands, he could hear his sister as she called him a cripple once again.

Sherlock could see the hurt look on his friends face and snatched the phone from his limp hands, "Once again the sister knowns nothing of what she speaks." He said to the woman on the line, easily keeping John's hand from reaching for the phone.

" _Wat would you know,_ " she snorted as she added, " _As soon as he's finished dying tell me._ "

"At this moment, John is ill, so please don't call again, and stop spreading your self-loathing as nor one needs, or even wants to hear it." Sherlock said as he looked to John who was still coughing, he reached over and started to rub his back, hoping to help, and feeling a little lost on what he should do, "You need to sober up. You constantly pick fights with John, when ever you drink and feel sorry for yourself, and you only have yourself to blame. Your drinking is a crutch, and I know all about that. You need to grow up and find out what is important, your drinking or actually living a life that is worth something. Because as far as I can see you do nothing but drink yourself into a stupor each day and rant to John about how you are better," he added as John finished coughing and reached a little weakly for the phone. Sherlock held it out of reach as he shook his head and then said to Harry, "you need to get over yourself, because there is no one out there that is better than John, and you have no right to even think of his as a lesser being, he is more than you will ever be." And with those last words he hung up the phone to the sputtering of Harry.

"You shouldn't have done that," John wheezed as he lay on his side looking up to his friend.

"She calls you up for one reason, and that is to try and make you feel as though you are worthless, and I know that she made you feel like that," he told him as he looked down to him.

"And how did you figure that out?" he asked, wondering what it was hat gave him away. He knew that his friend was no doubt watching him and deducing him all the time, even though he had told him not to on more than one occasion.

"Your limp returns a little, just enough to put off your normal stride. You tense up and remain that way for most of the day, your hand also tends to shake a little more that it normally does, even wile we are on a case or in a high stress situation, where normally it would fade away." Sherlock deduced as he looked o his friend, his voice was soft and warm, instead of its normally harsh quality when h was deducing something, "you shouldn't have to put up with the abuse that she hurls at you," he added quietly.

"She's the only family I have left Sherlock, and while I don't like the choices she has made in her life. I still care about her and want her to do better with her life." He said softly as he winded at what Sherlock had told him. He knew that he limped a little after one of Harry's drunk rants to hi, how she had often called him a cripple since he came back from Afghanistan, he had ignored them and her as much as he could.

"She needs to group up ad you know that John. It's time for her to take responsibility for herself. You have helped her get sober on a number of occasions, including a few months ago, and here she is once again calling you drunk, you help and she throws it back at you and blames you once again for something that she has done to herself. I do know what it is like John, and at one point I was as low as she was and I did my best to keep clean, and I still fight it day in and day out. But she had just given up on everything. And I know how hard it can be to admit that you need help. I didn't want help, I refused Mycroft's help over and over again. It was Lestrade that helped me in the end, and I wont put his efforts of getting me clean to waste again." He told him, his voice strong and sure as he spoke of things he normally avoided.

"Lestrade helped you?" he asked, curiously. Sherlock had never told him what had gotten him clean, and what had made him stay that way, he wasn't one to talk and John wasn't one to ask.

"Yes, he did," Sherlock nodded slightly, still holding John's phone. "It was one of the most hardest things I have even done in my life," he began quietly, "and it will always be there in the back of my mind, even now, five years after becoming clean." He told him softly, "She needs to take over now, you've done all you can to help her, she just doesn't want to help herself. She has to admit to herself first that she needs help, and only then will you be able to help her." He spoke firmly, knowledge in his eyes of what he was talking about.

"I know, I know that she needs to try and do something herself, but…" John tailed off as he struggled to sit up and leaned tiredly against the head-board. "I've always done my best, had to. Mum died when I was 16, and then dad passed away a few months before I join up, Harry fell apart and drank even more," he said softly, "I was the only one let and I tried. I got her into rehab a few times, but each time she would come out and go straight back to the booze, and then her and Clara would start fighting and I would have them call me when I was on leave. And when I was on tour, they would leave messages for me all the time. I just didn't know how to help, or what I could do. She asked for help, and I'd do what ever I could from where I was and then she would go right back to it when it was over." He sighed, giving a small cough, thankful that he didn't start coughing like he had done moments before.

"I know you think I shouldn't have said anything, but I will say this. It needed to be said, because one of these days I can see you getting a call and it wont be a nice one." He told him as he stood up from the bed, "You're just too kind, you help everyone that you can, no matter who they are." He said a soft smile on his face, "I think that is what truly intrigues me about you," he walked around the bed and made John lay down once again, "get some sleep John, rest and I will wake you when dinner arrives."

"Sherlock…" John frowned as the other shook his head. He lay back and relaxed as best as he could, as he thought of his elder sister and her drinking habits. He was worried about what Sherlock had told him, and he had often panicked when he got a call in the middle of the night, hoping that it was is sister and not someone else to tell him bad news and that something had happened to her. It was something he didn't wish to think about, though in the end he often found he thought just that. He slowly closed his eyes as he heard Sherlock leave the room, closing the door a little behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and the kudos. I'm happy that you are all enjoying it so far!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Twelve**

Sherlock walked into the living room, leaving John to his thoughts. He knew that he had made the other think of things his friend would rather not, but it needed to be said. He had seen John try to get through to his sister time and time again, only for it to be thrown into his face. He sighed a little as he walked through the living room and sat down on the sofa, looking around the room. IT was clean and tidy, his skull was back on the fireplace after he had talked to it a few days ago and left it on the table.

Sherlock was a little startled when the phone in his hand started to ring. He didn't think he had kept it with him when he left the room. He looked down to it and saw Harry's name come up on the screen. He couldn't help the sigh as he knew that he wouldn't let her talk to John this time, he needed to rest and get better, and listening to his sister rant wouldn't help at all.

"Hello Harry," Sherlock said as he answered it.

" _Put John on,_ " she demanded as soon as she heard the voice on the other end of the line.

"No," he told her, "just shit up and listen to me," he demanded, causing her to snarl a little as she asked to speak to her brother once again, "You need to grow up, you need to look around and see exactly what you are doing to those that love you, you have put John through Hell all the time and he tries to help you, and when he does, what do you do Harriett?" he asked her.

" _That's none of you damn business, now put that fucking lazy assed bastard on._ " She once again demanded.

"You throw it back at him, he doesn't want to give up on you, but I think it might just be time he did, you've been drinking since you were in your teens and now twenty years later, you are still doing the same thing. Never thinking about anyone but yourself. Your wife left you because she could no longer stand to see someone she loved destroy themselves. You blame John for your own failing, but all you need to do was to keep yourself sober and he would be welcoming you when ever he could, but because you drink at every moment you have free, he can't stand seeing you like it. It hurts him that he can't help you." He told her what he had observed over the last year, and that two times that she had shown up at the flat demanding to see her brother, drunk.

" _It's none of your business,_ " she snarled as she added, " _Just put John on, because I don't want to listen to a loser like you. Hen again, why the Hell would I want to talk to another lover._ " She ranted.

"Shut up," he growled, getting annoyed at the woman on the other end of the phone, "You are nothing but a pathetic woman, who doesn't care who she hurts and then has the audacity to blame others for things that you do. Why should you have the right to tell others that they are worthless when in reality, it is you that is so?" he told her, his voice steady once again, after that he hung up and put the phone on silent, not wishing for it to disturb him, or John again, he just hoped that she wouldn't turn up at the flat.

He settled back down against the sofa, and cursed himself a little. He knew that John would be a little angry with him, and maybe even a disappointed in him. He had seen how Harry had affected her brother every time she called. He knew that one day there will come a time when John will not be able to do anything more and it will hurt the older man, and badly. That was something that he didn't want to happen.

He looked to Johns phone and made another call, this time to Sarah. He told her quickly that John was still ill, and that if she had time to come and bring something that would help with the cough that he was developing. He ended up telling her the symptoms and was glad when she said that she would do so after her shift. He ended the call and lay back on the sofa, as he kept an ear out for John and another for Mrs Hudson, for when dinner would be ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and the kudos, they are wonderful! Glad you are all enjoying this!
> 
> I've done a naughty and started a new Sherlock Fanfic, though I'm not posting till I get a little further into it with it. Its a De-aged fanfic, with Sherlock and John being turned into kids.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

** No Pain, No Gain **

** Chapter Thirteen **

Sherlock bound up the stairs, taking them two at a time, not wishing to leave John alone for too long, he had just said goodbye to Sarah, as she had dropped off the medication that he had asked her for. He didn't like asking her to help John for a reason, though he would deny it. He knew that he would rather deal with her than to let John suffer at all. He walked into the kitchen and set the medicine down, it was mainly something for John's cough and some more Ibuprofen, since they were out, John's fever had begun to climb over the last few hours, and he was also suffering from a headache that made the older man wince when there was a little too much light in the room.

He filled the kettle and turned it on, preparing two mugs for tea and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He heard movement coming from his bedroom and poked his head out of the kitchen, only to see John stumble as he walked to the bathroom and went inside. He went back into the kitchen and grabbed two Ibuprofen and the cough mixture. He winced a little in sympathy as he heard John coughing again in the bathroom, it had been getting worse over the last few hours.

It didn't take long for the kettle to start to boil and he poured the water as he heard John finish in the bathroom. He was about to call out to him when he heard a grown, he listened as John stumbled even more. Sherlock jogged out of the Kitchen and saw John was leaning against the wall as he was now sat on the floor just outside his bedroom door.

Sherlock went over and helped him to stand, holding him tightly around the waist, the two of them slowly made their way back into the bedroom. He got John settled back into bed and covered him up.

"Th'nks," John croaked as he winced, pain throbbing in his throat.

"Don't worry John," he smiled to him as he placed a hand on his forehead and frowned a little, the heat radiating from his was higher that it had been an hour ago, "John, I have some medication that Sarah dropped off for you, so stay awake," he told him as he turned to leave the room.

"Okay," John murmured as he looked up to him, his eyes were glassy with fever and his face was flushed.

Sherlock looked on in sympathy as he nodded and then left the room. He quickly got a tray together to take everything into the bedroom and walked back in, seeing that John was almost fully asleep. Sherlock could tell that he had tried to remain awake. The consulting detective really didn't want to wake him up fully, he would rather let him sleep, but knew that it would be best to wake him and get some medication into his flatmate and friend, hoping it would help with the fever and cough the most.

"John, wake up," he said softly as he moved closer, John's eyes slowly began to open and glassy blue eyes met steel grey. He put the tray down on the bedside table and helped him to sit up, "Right, something for the cough, and some Ibuprofen for the aches, headache and the fever as well," he said as he poured the two spoons of syrup that John would have to take. He smiled when John pulled a face as he tasted it, and then handed over the two tablets along with the now opened fresh bottle of water.

"Thanks," he murmured tiredly as he looked to his flatmate in gratitude.

Sherlock smiled to him and said "Don't worry about it, now drink some more water and then have some tea, if your stomach is all right to have some. And I wish to know if you would like something to eat?" he finished with a question as John took the bottle of water and took a sip.

"I think the tea should be fine," he answered in an almost whisper, "Nothing to eat," he added as he didn't think his throat could take the abuse of trying to swallow anything solid at that moment in time. He still wasn't sure if it would be able to appreciate the drink either, but knew that he need to keep hydrated.

"All right," he nodded as he took his own tea and went around to the other side of the bed and sat down. John drank most of the water and soon the tea was gone as well. He snuggled back done into the bed, feeling a little better as the pain medication began to kick in, though it didn't get rid of it all, just enough to let him feel some relief. He let the peace and quiet of the room sooth him as his eyes began to close.

Sherlock had a small smile on his face as he watched John lay back down on the bed, pulling the covers up high. John soon settled into a restful sleep, only an occasionally cough disturbed the silence that was in the room. The consulting detective once again picked up his book and began to read, only stopping to check on John and to make sure that the fever didn't climb any higher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the awesome comments and the kudos. So happy that you are enjoying this one so far, still have a long way to go and I hope you are all with me for the ride!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Sherlock's eyes opened as he woke with a slight jolt, he hadn't meant to fall asleep, but even he required some sleep on occasions. And with him having none for the last week, meant that he needed it more than normal. He was under the cover and smiled as he looked across from him, John was curled up against him, his head settled on his chest. Sherlock tightened his arms a little as he found that they were wrapped around his flatmate, he couldn't help but let the smile on his face grow a little more.

"Sher'ock," came a quiet mumble.

"Go back to sleep John," he told him softly as he pulled him a little closer and hoped that he would settled back down to sleep.

John moved back a little and looked up, a small confused frown on his face, "Warm," he murmured, Sherlock shook his head slightly as he could ell that John was still half asleep, and wasn't really noticing the way he two of them had been sleeping.

"I know, now settle back down and go back to sleep," he told him as he pulled him a little closer.

"Okay," he said softly as he almost burrowed into Sherlock's chest and wrapped his own arms around his friends as best as he could, "This is nice," he added as sleep began to take hold of him once again.

Sherlock chuckled quietly as he listened o John's breathing begin to even out. He remained quiet as he enjoyed holding John close, as though he could protect him from what the world outside their flat held for the two of them. He knew that john was getting better, though he was still tired a lot, his temperature was almost back to normal, as his fever had broke a few hours ago, now all John needed was to rest.

Sherlock knew that John was much like him, he wouldn't want to sit around doing nothing, and he knew that the other would try and get back to work as soon as he could. He hoped that he would be able to get him to try and leave it another day or two before them. Chances were that it wouldn't work, but he would give it a shot as soon as John even mentioned going back to the clinic.

"Sher'ock," John voice sounded as he felt the gentle and warm air brush against his bare chest, where John was rested.

"Hush John, rest and sleep," he told him, wondering if the other man was actually awake this time and not just talking in his half asleep state.

"Stop thin'in," he insisted as he squeezed Sherlock a little and settled back down.

Sherlock smile and told him, "my mind ever stops John, it only rests on occasions, but it's had all the rest it needs for a while, so you ca g back to sleep and rest, you need it." His voice was soft and warm as he spoke, hoping that John would go back to sleep.

"You c'n sleep, close eye," he yawned as he spoke a broken sentence.

Sherlock nodded, more against his will than anything as he did as John told him and closed his eyes, "I'll close them and will try and sleep, but I make no promises John, now you go to sleep yourself," he instructed, a smile on his face as he felt John nod against him as he burrowed closer still, his breathing quickly went even as he went fully to sleep, instead of remaining in his half awake state.

The smile on Sherlock's face remained as his body betrayed him and began to relax. It didn't take long for his mind to do the same as it went blank and he soon drifted off to sleep, relived hat John was getting better, and that soon he would be fine, and up and about once again. His mind succumbed to sleep, a smile still there and arms wrapped around the one person in his life that meant more than his own, and his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and the kudos. So happy that you are enjoying it so far!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.
> 
> I do feel sorry for John, I really do. (Very evil laugh!) Though not until the next chapter!

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Fifteen**

It had been a week since Kelly Childs had been caught, arrested and charged for the murder of five men, and the attempted murder of another. John was now feeling a lot better, finally over the flu that had left him in bed and with Sherlock playing nurse maid, though John had to admit that the other had done a good job. There was still a lingering tiredness around him, and the doctor was beginning to hate it.

He walked into the living room, and shook his head as he saw Sherlock lying on the sofa, eyes closed and oblivious once again to the world around him. The doctor couldn't help but wonder what the younger man was thinking about. He went and sat down in his usual chair and smiled as he watched him. The other man had helped him while he had been ill, much to hi own surprise. John sighed, he felt restless, he would be going back to work at the clinic tomorrow, and he was happy that he was finally going to be able to get out of the flat.

Lestrade had stopped by yesterday to tell them that Childs had confessed to everything that she had done the day she had been arrested, but still hadn't given a reason in the interviews that they had done since. Though Sherlock certainly knew what it was. He had told the detective and doctor that she had been dumped by the first victim, when he figured out he was gay, and that had bee her rifer she then went off to kill the men that resembled him in the clubs that she had found out that he had frequented.

John got up, not able to sit down any longer, he went into the kitchen, and noted that it was still tidy, though he had to wonder how long it would last until he found a body part or two on the kitchen table or even in the fridge again. He made the two of them some tea quietly as he brought them back into the living room and put one of the mugs down on the coffee table. He went back to his chair and sat down as Sherlock opened his eyes to look at his restless flatmate.

"John," he greeted as he swung his feet around and sat up.

"Hey," he nodded as he sipped at the hot tea, looking over to Sherlock.

"You look a lot better than yesterday," he said as he looked him over, making sure that his friend was really all right now, "Still tired though," he added as he noticed the tiredness in his eyes.

"I feel a lot better, though yes I still feel tired, not the most relaxing time you'll have while you have the flu." John snorted a little as he leaned back and sighed, happy that he was feeling better.

"Hmmm," he hummed as he picked up the mug and sipped the tea, "If you don't mind I'll be heading to Bart's later on, there is something that I want to do at the lab, and Molly said she had some toes that I can use. I want to see if there is a better way to try and get prints off of dried out skin." He told his flatmate.

John sighed, knowing the lack of body parts wouldn't last long, "all right, want me to come along?" he asked, a little eager to try and get out of the house while he had the chance. Sherlock had made sure that John wasn't to go out, and made him rest, it was only that day that he had been able to get out of bed for more than an hour or two. Sherlock was a taskmaster of a nurse.

"If you wish," Sherlock nodded, "I will be doing a few experiments in the lab, you can join me in there for a while, shouldn't be too long, just half hour. Need to find a way to quickly dry the toes out first." He added as he smiled, his eyes lightning up at the thought of doing something fun.

"That's fine with me," John nodded back as the two of them finished their tea, "I've called Sarah and told her that I will be able to go in tomorrow." He then said softly.

"Surely it would be best to take another day off before you head back to that infection ridden place?" Sherlock questioned as he frowned.

"Sherlock, I'm fine tomorrow I will be even better, so I wish to get back to work. I get bored just like you do. I just tend to do it in a different type of work to keep busy." He smiled and tried to get his friend to see that he would be fine.

Sherlock mumbled as he said, "You go back there and come home with something else, I don't see why you spend your time with them sometimes."

"So sometimes you understand then?" he asked as he caught what Sherlock was saying.

He looked over to him and said, "Yes, you care about people deeply, and it's a part of who you are. This caring thing," he rolled his eyes a little as he added, "I do understand, though I wish you would take at least another day before you head back, make sure that you are truly fine and that your immune system is as strong as ever."

"Sherlock, I'll be fine, yes at the moment I feel tired, but I doubt I will tomorrow, and Sarah only has me on a half day again." He sighed, a smile on his face. It was nice to know that here was a heart in his friend, no mater how many times he told everyone otherwise.

"Be it on your head when you come home tomorrow with something else wrong with you, something that will leave you in bed once again." He told him as he drank the last of his tea and stood up, "Well, are you coming?" he asked as he waited for John to drink his tea and move off his chair.

"Yeah," he nodded and gulped his tea, he picked up Sherlock's cup and took them to the kitchen, to wash the up later on, most likely he would be doing that. "Okay," he said as he grabbed his jacket and the two of them left the flat, once again heading to St Bart's for one of Sherlock's experiments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the brilliant comments and the kudos you have given me. They are wonderful. I have been writing more of this one as I gear up for Camp NaNoWriMo, which I have decided to write a new Sherlock Fic for, aiming for around 80k. Here is the summary for it -
> 
> Sherlock and John have been after a scientist that has been testing his creations on the unsuspecting people of London, causing the death of four people so far. But will John and Sherlock be all right when they are the next targets and the creation is a partial success?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.
> 
> Sorry for being late, got caught up in writing my new fic (de-aged Sherlock and John), which wont be posted until after April.

** No Pain, No Gain **

** Chapter Sixteen **

"Bye Miss Holdan," John smiled kindly as he watched the young woman leave he office. She was his last patience for the day. He glanced down at his watch and saw that it was only lunchtime, thought it felt like dinnertime to him. He hated to admit I, but Sherlock might have been right about him waiting another day to go back. Though he doubted his sanity would last if he had to stay at home for another day and watch as Sherlock messed around with the toes he had sweet talked Molly into giving too him.

He typed down a few more notes on his patients file and then closed it down. He stretched a little as he stood up, hating that he was feeling a little drained. He left his office and looked around the reception, there was a few patients left and he wondered if Sarah would like him to see one or two before he left. He knew that with the fly he had a few days ago, was also going around the patients as well as the staff at the clinic.

"Mary," John smiled as he reached the receptionist.

"Yes Dr Watson?" she asked, wondering what he wanted.

"I could always see a few more, I don't mind staying a little later to help out," he said as he smiled to her warmly.

"Thank you Dr Watson, but these are the last few for about an hour Dr Sawyer told me to tell you to go home and to take it easy." She smiled back at him.

"All right," he nodded as he went back to his office, to get ready to leave.

John pulled on his short black jacket and left his office, closing it up, and making sure that the room was set to rights. He walked through the reception room, nodding bye to Mary as he did so, seeing that there were now only four patients left in the room as he walked out and into the slightly chilly September air. I had been a boring day of people coming with the flu, and the odd minor complaint, and of course the common cold. He looked around and headed towards the tube station, thinking he had better stop off and get a few groceries in once again, since he knew that Sherlock wouldn't have thought about it with his head stuck in one of his experiments.

He got on the tub and got off at the stop nearest to the Tesco store and headed to it. He went around, grabbing the things he knew that they would need and avoided the self-serve checkouts with their evil chip and pin machines. He didn't want to start another argument in the middle of the shop. Half-hour later he walked out, glad that he hadn't been in there for that long. It would only be half hour walk back to Baker Street, so instead of public transport, he decided it would be fine to walk.

He walked down the road; the street was practically empty as he walked. Keeping his head down against the sudden wind that had whipped up around him for a moment. John had two bags in each hand, he had made sure to get in enough good so he wouldn't have to go shopping for a few days at least, maybe as long as a week, unless they needed more milk.

John frowned as he heard the running footsteps of around three people coming up behind him. He moved to the side of the pavement to let them past, turning around a little to make sure that he wouldn't be in their way. Blue eyes went wide as a pipe was heading for his head. John reacted automatically, dropping the shopping bags and he dropped t the floor. Avoiding the blow to the head.

"Oufff," he gasped out as someone else barrelled into him, sending the two of them to the ground. The air rushed out of his lungs as he wondered what the hell was going on.

"Whack him again," came a voice from one of the people around him.

"'Kay," came another, though this voice sounded younger than the others.

John looked around a little as he saw the pipe come towards him once more. He moved and then yelled at the pain as it crashed into his ribs, air rushing out as it did so. He tried to move, but his body just wouldn't co-operate with him. He brought his arms up as he saw something flash in his vision, he felt something run over his arm twice before he yelled in pain once again as his arms were hit away. He felt a sharp pain in his head as the world around him turned dark and he lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy that you are liking this, I do feel sorry for John in this story, poor thing. Thank you all for the comments and the Kudos, they are wonderful!! Hope you like it!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.
> 
> Sorry for taking so long in getting the next chapter up, but for the last month it's been one thing after another to bog me down and almost to lost my love of writing. The only thing that kept me going is a new fic, which I will be posting either next week or the week after.
> 
> We are to move house, which I am looking for a new place to live, we said goodbye to our dog Tabby, she was just gone 13. I've had a cold and a slight chest infection again, thankfully nothing like over Christmas. And other bits and bobs that kept cropping up.

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Sherlock looked up from the specimen he was examining under the microscope. He glanced around the kitchen and could tell that there was something missing. He frowned a little when he realised exactly what it was that wasn't there.

"John!" he called out, wondering if the other had come back and not said anything to him. He was still getting over the flu, and he had once again argued with John about him going to work too soon. Sherlock didn't like the fact that he was pushing to go back to work so soon after recovering. John had once again insisted that he was fine though Sherlock could see the tiredness around blue eyes as well as the lack of appetite, since John had only been able to finish off one slice of toast before he left that morning.

Sherlock hummed, as he got no answer and glanced down at his watch. It was past in three in the afternoon, ad he knew that John would have left work at one, since he was doing a half day. He got up from the table and went to the living room, looking around. There was still no sign of John, no jacket on the hook, no tea on the side table, nothing. He went back to the kitchen and over to his phone, looking to the last text he had received from his flatmate and friend.

**Going to Tesco after work, be back a little late - JW - 12:12pm**

"Should be back by now," he mumbled to himself, he knew that John never took long to go around Tesco.

**Where are you? - SH - 3:06pm**

He put the phone and went back to the microscope, with a sigh of annoyance because John wasn't back yet, and looked through it to examine his sample. Sherlock growled a little when his mind would not leave alone the fact that John was not home yet/ He stood up once gain, grabbing his phone as he began to pace in the living room. Sherlock walked over to the window and looked out, hope he would see the wayward doctor coming down the street.

**John? Answer. - SH - 3:10pm**

He paced back and forth, mumbling things that could have delayed his friend. He had to wonder if he was braving the chip and pin machines at the self serve again. Since the last time he had done so, he had come back in such a bad mood that he had snapped at Mrs Hudson, and Sherlock himself when he arrived. "Where are you John?" he called out, beginning to get frustrated with the lack of answer from the man.

**John, if you don't answer I will be getting Mycroft to find you, and if I have to, you know I wont be happy. - SH - 3:17pm**

He sent another text to John, hoping that he would answer this one. Sherlock would call his brother if John didn't answer soon; he hated the thought of doing so, since Mycroft would no doubt hold it over him. But he was beginning to get worried; John should be back by now. He started to pace once again, looking to his phone and cursing a little as he found a number he didn't wish to call and let it ring out.

" _Hello,_ " came a female voice on the other end.

"Sarah," he greeted, "it's Sherlock, is John still at the Clinic, or has he left?" he asked quickly, wanting nothing more than an answer from her.

"He left a little after one, though he did offer to stay and take a few extra patients," she answered him, concern already starting to creep into her voice as she asked, "IS something wrong?"

"No," he said, though even to him it sounded like a blatant lie, "Just a little late in getting home." He said as he then hung up.

Sherlock walked over to the window and looked out once again; he waited a few moments, still no sign of John. He sighed as he looked to his phone and moved away from the window. He would have to call Mycroft, since John wasn't answering at all. He clicked up his brothers number and was about to all him when he heard someone knocking frantically on his front door. He knew that it wouldn't be John so he decided it would be best to at least send a text while he got rid of who ever it was.

**Mycroft, John it late coming home from work, find him. - SH - 3:32pm**

He listened as Mrs Hudson opened the door and let whomever it was inside as his phone beeped at him.

**Will Look, if he comes back, inform me. - MH - 3:33pm**

Sherlock looked tot he door as the person Mrs Hudson let in started up the stairs, two at a time. The door burst open and Lestrade almost ran in. Sherlock frowned at him and told him, "If there is a case, it will have to wait. John isn't home yet and he isn't contacting me."

"I know," Lestrade said, causing Sherlock to frown.

"What do you mean, you know?" he asked him, taking a step forwards.

"Got a call from St Bart's John Doe brought in, no ID, mugged and unconscious. One of the PC's went down to see if they could help get him identified. Recognised who it was straight away. It's John," he told him as he looked to him in concern as Sherlock paled as he told him.

"Is he all right?" he asked as he moved towards the other, "Well, let's go." He said as he grabbed his coat and made for the door.

"I'll tell you on the way then," he said, a little shocked that he wasn't protesting being taken to the hospital in his squad car.

Sherlock nodded as the two of them rushed down the stairs and outside, getting into the car. Sherlock looked to Lestrade and waited for him to tell him what had happened to John, hoping that the doctor was fine.

"He was found around half hour go," Lestrade started to explain, "He's still unconscious, but I don't know the extent of his injuries at all, the Doctors there didn't tell the PC." He added as he looked over to his friend, though sometimes he had to wonder what Sherlock classed him as.

"You know nothing more than that?" he asked the Detective Inspector as he glanced over and then went back to looking out of the window as the streets went passed.

"No, as soon as I learned that it was John, I came over to tell you. In case you hadn't found out. I know that he has been ill the last few days, so I was actually surprised to hear that John was out. I thought he would have stayed home a little longer." He said softly as he drove, keeping an eye on the road.

"I did try and get him to stay home this morning, but he didn't wish to. He didn't have much to eat and he was still tried. I think he had a bad night." Sherlock spoke softly, worry lacing his voice as he wondered about the condition of his friend as they finally pulled up outside the hospital.

Sherlock got out of the car and ran to the door, entering as he then turned to wait for Lestrade.

"I know where he is, so follow me," Lestrade said as he led the way, thankful that the PC told him where they would have to go.

It was a few moments later that he was standing outside the door that separated himself and John. He opened the door and walked in, his eyes when wide when he saw John under the blanket and in a hospital gown. He saw a hand on the sheet, slightly bruised. The consulting detective hesitated in holding it, but gently took hold, running his thumb over the back of it.

Lestrade followed him in and couldn't hide the gasp as he saw the state his friend was in, John's head was bandaged and one eye was swollen shut, the other closed. He walked a little closer to the bed and he noticed the PC in the corner of the room. He turned to him and told him, "Go and get the doctor so he can explain what's wrong."

The young officer nodded as he went out of the room and soon came back with Dr Inis, who was taking care of John for the moment. He ran a hand through greying black hair and looked to the Detective Inspector and the young man that was holding his patience hand.

"Hello," he greeted them as piercing grey eyes looked to him and through him.

"What's wrong with John?" Sherlock asked, not bothering with the pleasantries.

He has a concussion and laceration on his head from a blunt object. He has several bruised ribs, but thankfully none are broken. He has two lacerations on his arms, where I would say he tried to defend himself. His left ad is bruised, but nothing had been broken." He answered as he looked between the younger man and the elder one.

"When will he wake?" Sherlock then asked, as he paled a little more as he listened to John's injuries.

"I don't know, at the moment he is just unconscious, hopefully he should wake up soon." He answered, he wasn't that comfortable telling his patients information to the man before him, but something told him that he should.

"All right," he nodded as he looked around and saw a chair, pulling it close to the bed and sat down, not letting go of John's hand.

"We're trying to get in touch with his next of kin, a Miss Harriett Watson, are you able to contact her for us?" Dr Inis asked as he looked to the seated man.

Sherlock looked up sharply, "I wouldn't bother even trying, she is mostly likely drunk already," he told him, almost snarling at the mention of the woman that kept calling while John was ill.

"Unfortunately, it's hospital policy to contact the next of kin," he said, apologising a little, he gave the two gentlemen a nod and then left the room.

"I didn't know that John had a sister," Lestrade said softly as he walked a little closer to the bed.

"He doesn't get along with her, I learned that she started drinking in her late teens and practically never stopped. John is almost seven years younger than her, so they didn't spend a lot of time together as a result. John has always tried to help her with her drinking, but she has thrown it in his face each time. I think he is getting to the point where he will give up soon. It hurts him, and she does sometimes call just to hurt him on purpose." Sherlock said softly, as he remembered the calls that the woman had made t her brother over the last few days, each of them calling him names, and trying to put him down and make him feel worthless.

"So you don't want her here for the simple fact is that she will try and cause problems?" he asked as he looked down to the young man.

Sherlock nodded, "Correct."

The two settled down in the room, waiting for John to wake up. Sherlock holding his hand, and looking at his friend, wanting to know exactly what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, the comments and the kudos are awesome, and so are you guys! So happy that you are enjoying it so far.
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient, and I know that there are a number of mistakes in this, mainly my tenses, I mix them up all the time. I think I need a beta for this, and for the three Sherlock fics that I am planning at the moment. An OmegaVerse one, a meeting between Sherlock and John before SiP one, and a Sequel to the one I wrote in April. The one I wrote in April is finished, just in rough draft and is slowly being re-written, will start posting in a week or two.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.
> 
> I now have tumblr - [here](http://duochanfan.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I will be using it as a way to keep myself motivated, and to answer any questions you have about my fics or about my writing in general. I will also be using it to post little snippets of fics that I am in the process of writing now, (two snippets are already up). And putting up what I am currently working on or why things are late, or going to be late going up.

No Pain, No Gain

Chapter Eighteen

Sherlock leaned forwards and looked at John as he sat on the hard plastic chair next to the bed, taking in his injuries once again. He hated this waiting, just waiting for John to wake up, to tell them what had happened to him, though Sherlock could easily guess. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out.

**He was picked up by Ambulance at 2:56pm, a block away from Tesco, and taken to St Bart's; he was unconscious at he time, getting update from Hospital in moment. - MH - 4:28pm**

"Damn," Sherlock whispered, he had forgotten to text Mycroft to let him know that he had located John.

"What is it?" Lestrade asked him, wondering what the swearing was for, he had only ever heard Sherlock swear once before, and that was after he had OD'ed five years ago.

"Mycroft, I was supposed to tell him if I found John before he did. I didn't." He said as he then sent a quick text to his elder brother.

**John found, mugged by the looks of it, was ID'ed by a PC, Lestrade came to get me, with him now, still unconscious. - SH - 4:30pm**

"You called your brother, I thought you didn't like to get him involved with anything?" he asked, a small frown of confusion on his face, he had heard from both sides how Sherlock refused to ask his brother for help.

"I may dislike him, but that is because he can be very annoying when he wants something from me, or rather wants me to do something for him." Sherlock said with a roll of his eyes as he looked back to John and took up holding his hand again.

"Right," Lestrade said softly as he nodded slowly.

**Will come and see him later, do take care. - MH - 4:33pm**

The two descended into silence as Lestrade found a chair to sit in. He was going to be hanging around until he could get a statement from John, though he hoped that the other would wake up soon. He didn't want to leave Sherlock alone, since he could see that the other was worried and concerned for his friend. Lestrade looked to the PC in the corner and sent him back to the Yard, saying that he would be the one to remain and wake for the doctor to wake for his statement. He wasn't working on any murder cases at the moment, so he had the time to stay. His phone ran a little and he got p and left the room to take the call, not sure what it was about.

"Have you managed to find anything out about his attackers?" Sherlock asked as Lestrade walked back into the room, after a few minutes.

"Nothing that we can figure out so far," he answered as he sat back down, "We're trying to see if we can get the CCTV footage from the area at the moment, but it's going to be a while before we get it."

Sherlock nodded and then stood up as he turned to Lestrade and said, "Watch over him," he then walked out of the room and pulled out his phone as he heard Lestrade asking him where he was going.

He dialled a familiar number and waited for someone to pick up, "What do you want Sherlock?"

"Mycroft, I want you to get the footage of John's attack and send it to the Yard," he told his brother, not bothering with a greeting of any kind.

"I am already doing so. They will have it in the next ten minutes," he answered smoothly as he then asked, "How is John?"

"Unconscious at the moment, bruised ribs, lacerations, and a concussion." He rattled off the more pressing injuries, not willing to go into any details.

"I will try and stop by later to see him, take care of yourself Sherlock, and John as well." He said as he hung up.

Sherlock stared at his phone for a moment before he put it away and walked back into John's room. He sat back down, ignoring the look from Lestrade as he took his friends hand into his own, needing to feel that John was all right, and that he would be fine. "You should be getting the footage of John's attack soon, Mycroft is sending to through to you." He said as he gave quick glance to the Inspector and then looked back to John.

The two descended into silence again, neither having anything to say as they waited for John to wake. The silence was broken only once, when Lestrade received a text message telling him that the footage had been received and that they were going to start going through it.

Lestrade stood up, not able to take the quiet anymore and looked to Sherlock, "Do you want some coffee?" he asked him as he took a step towards the door.

"Yes," Sherlock answered, it would give him something to do while he waited for John to come around.

"All right, back in a moment," Lestrade said as he walked out of the room.

Sherlock, glad to be alone for a moment, stood up and lent over John a little, looking at him closely he leaned a little closer and whispered in his ear, "Wake up John, I don't like to see you when you are hurt." His voice was soft and hopeful that the other would wake up soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments and the kudos. I do hope you are enjoying it. I know there are mistakes in here, but I have a lot of trouble seeing them. So at the moment I am looking for a beta for this fic and other Sherlock fics that I am currently working on


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This is my first time in writing Sherlock Fanfiction, so I do hope that you will be kind to me as I make my way and learn the ropes of the characters that are Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H Watson and those that join them on their many cases and adventures through the streets of London.
> 
> I now have tumblr - [here](http://duochanfan.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I will be using it as a way to keep myself motivated, and to answer any questions you have about my fics or about my writing in general. I will also be using it to post little snippets of fics that I am in the process of writing now, (two snippets are already up).
> 
> I am still looking for a beta reader for this fic and several other Sherlock fanfics, two ready to post as soon as they have been gone over.

No Pain, No Gain

Chapter Nineteen

Sherlock stood up from his chair as he heard someone shouting in the hallway outside of John's room. He turned to the door, about to head out and see what was going on when the door burst open with a loud bang. Sherlock missed seeing John frown and move a little as the sound began to wake him, causing him some distress with the noise. Sherlock sneered in disgust as he saw a drunk Harriett Watson standing in the doorway, looking towards the bed where her little brother lay sleeping.

"So, this is where my pathetic little brother is this time. What did he do, fall down some stairs?" she snarled a little as she walked forwards, keeping her eyes on her brother and ignoring the man standing beside his bed. "John you lazy bastard, wake up!" she yelled at him as soon as she got close enough to lean in towards his ear.

Sherlock heard John groan from the bed as he slowly moved a hand towards his head, "be quiet Harriett," he glowered at her, snarling through his teeth, he wanted her quiet so John could wake up gently.

"Go fuck yourself," she growled back at him as she looked to her brother and punched him as hard as she could on the arm, John woke with a startled cry, as his eyes flew open, only to close them again against the bright lights of the room, groaning in pain. "Wake up you lazy bastard," she told him, her voice harsh and unforgiving, she didn't care that she was hurting him; she wanted him awake so she could tell him off for disturbing her fun.

Sherlock grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the bed, almost throwing her towards the door as he hissed, "Shut up and stay there." He then turned back to the bed as he saw John beginning to blink as his eyes began to get used to the lights in the room. Sherlock leaned over and gave a small quirk of his lips, as he took John's hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the knuckles.

"Sh'rl'k?" John mumbled as he caught sight of his friend, wondering what was going on.

"Hey John," he said softly, smiling down at him, glad that his friend was awake, not noticing that Dr Inis and Lestrade had come back into the room.

"Good you're awake," Harry groused as she went back towards the bed, ignoring the look that she was getting from Sherlock.

"Harry?" he asked as he heard his sister's voice and began to search for her, looking around with his good eye. He caught sight of her as she stood at the bottom of his bed, and gave her a smile, that wasn't returned.

"Yeah," she smirked, "Got called up for you once again," she told him as her voice went cold, "Fucking cripple," she called him as she began her rant, "Why the hell can't people just leave me alone, why don't you just curl up and die John, I would be so much better off without you. Wont have you trying to interfere with anything then," she snarled at her younger brother, not caring at all at the hurt look on his face, or the wince as his head began to throb even more.

"Miss Watson, I must asked you to be quiet, your brother has been through a trying ordeal and has only just woken up. He needs peace and quiet to recover." Dr Inis said as he tried to calm the irate woman down, wondering a little if he should have followed Sherlock's advice and not contacted John's sister.

"Harry…" John started to say something as he looked to his sister, feeling hurt at the tirade that he had been subjected to, once again.

"Oh shut up you pathetic bastard, why? Why am I always the one called when something happens to you? Can't you just go quietly and not bother anyone?" she yelled at him, gripping the bed frame tightly, glaring at him.

"I think you need to leave Miss Watson," Lestrade said as he watched John wince at the volume of her voice. He moved towards the woman a little, wondering how long John had been subjected to this type of abuse from his own sister.

"You don't have any say in this matter, so shut the fuck up." She snarled, as she turned towards the inspector and then turned back to her brother to say something else, only to be stopped when Sherlock had grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the open door, and pushed her out of the room.

"Lestrade, watch over John for a moment. I shall be back in a minute or two," he said calmly as he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. He turned to the spiteful woman that was glaring daggers at him, "Is that the best glare you have. I have to say your brother is a lot better at it than you, then again I would say he is better than you in every way." His voice was low and calm, sounding a littler dangerous as he spoke.

"What the fuck! That bastard is nothing but a pain in my ass. I get called to the hospital for my bastard brother, yet again. Then thrown from the fucking room, what the hell is that about?!" she exclaimed as she tried to walk past the detective in front of her and back into the room.

Sherlock moved into her way and said, "That was about getting you away from your brother, whom you were abusing, and still are." He looked at her, steely eyes pinning her where she stood as he added, "I have to wonder if you did the same to Clara? Is that why she left you?" he asked softly, eyes narrowing.

"And what business is it of yours about how I treat people. John is my bastard brother, and Clara is my soon to be ex-wife." She informed him, as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

Steel grey eyes looked to her, as Sherlock said, "What you have just done was verbal abuse. Then you hit him, which was physical abuse. You know that John has been hurt, though not how badly. Yet you still punched him on the arm and shouted at him. You could have easily caused more harm to come to him by your actions." He told her, "You don't care about that, all you care about is your next drink and not those around that actually care. I don't know why John even bothers to help you, you aren't worth anything."

"It's still none of your business how I treat my fucked up brother." She told him, not caring what he thought of her, she just wanted to make sure John got how much of an inconvenience he was to her.

"It is our business though," came a refined voice from behind her.

She turned around and came across a tall man in a three piece suit, looking as though he was leaning against a tightly wrapped umbrella, "And who the fuck are you?" she sneered, as she took him in.

"Mycroft Holmes, and a friend to the dear doctor," he said as he stood straight and walked over to stand beside his brother.

"Brother," Sherlock said with a nod of his head, none of the normal hostility in his voice as he greeted him.

"How is John?" he asked a slight hint of worry in his voice, as he looked to him, ignoring the woman staring at the two of them.

"I don't really know, since I didn't get chance to ask him before I had to remove a pest." He said as he sent a quick glare to Harry and then looked back to his brother.

"Ugh," Harry snorted, sneering as she turned and walked off, leaving them alone calling, "Make sure that cripple doesn't call me and I don't want to know anything again, got it! I never want to hear from him again!" She yelled.

"What a…" Mycroft started to say only to be interrupted by the door to John's room opening and Dr Inis coming out.

"Has Miss Watson left?" he asked, as he could see no trace of the woman, he had just heard her only moments before when he was examining John.

"Yes, I believe that she does not wish to know how her brother is," Sherlock answered him as he looked to him and then asked, "Can you tell me at least?"

"Yes of course, sorry," he said a little flustered, "Well, he does have a concussion, and he remembers a little of what happened to him, but there are some gaps, which is to be expected. His eye is swollen, though that should start going down in a few days. Keep the laceration on his arm clean and all should be fine. We'll be keeping him in over night to make sure everything is fine. He should be all right to go home tomorrow afternoon, though he is to take it easy when he does so." He told the two men standing before him.

"Thank you Doctor," Mycroft said as Sherlock nodded and walked back into the room, not wishing to wait around any longer.

Mycroft and Dr Inis shared a nod as Mycroft went into John's room as Dr Inis waked away. He shook his head at the drama he had just seen. He hoped that the rest of John Watson's stay was peaceful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and the kudos, I love them all. I do hope you are still liking this fic.
> 
> I know there are mistakes in here, but even going through it three times, I don't think I got them all.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don not own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> The first three chapters of this had been edited. I am going to be editing a past chapter as I update a new one each week. Well, I am going to be trying to keep to it.

** No Pain, No Gain **

** Chapter Twenty **

Mycroft walked into John's hospital room and looked towards the bed. John was now sitting up and looking to those around him. The doctor was still a little pale, with his right eye swollen shut and a small bandage on his forehead. He looked bad, as the bruising on his face was vivid against the pale skin. It would take a while for them to fade and for his eye to reopen. Mycroft knew that his younger brother would be fretting and worrying over his friends' health.

"Hi Mycroft," John said with a smile as he saw the elder man standing just inside the room.

"I came to see how you are doing John," he said, a small smile making its way onto his face as he walked further into the room.

"I'm fine, or I will be when I can go home." He smiled back, a small chuckle breaking free wincing slightly at the pain it caused.

"Which wont be until tomorrow John," Sherlock told him, reminding him.

John rolled his eye, only to wince a little as the light shone straight into it, "Yes Sherlock, I know, standard for this type of injury. I'm just glad that I'm not worse off. I hate being in the hospital." He sighed a little.

"Yes, we can all be thankful for that," Mycroft nodded as he looked to his brother and then to the doctor.

"John, sorry to ask, but I need to get a statement from you," Lestrade asked glancing to everyone in the room. He gave Mycroft a smile as he then turned back to John. He didn't like the thought of asking, but he knew that the sooner he was able to get John's statement the sooner he would be able to find the ones who attached his friend. He hadn't learnt anything else from those that were working on getting the footage, though it might take a while longer to get it.

"No trouble Greg," the ex army doctor said as he turned to his friend and said, "shall we get it over with now?"

Lestrade nodded as he pulled out a little book and then said, "start from the start," he then waited for John to start talking, pen poised to write everything down.

"Right, I was walking back home from Tesco, I wasn't that far from the shop when I heard the sound of footsteps behind me. I stepped to the side and looked behind me. I thought it was some teens running around again, skiving off school," he chuckled a little and winced as hi ribs protested the sudden movement. "I turned around and there was a pipe heading towards me, I ducked, but someone barrelled into me and I hit the floor. Knocked the breath out of me. I saw something flash and felt a pain in my ribs, and then again in my arm," he said as he looked down at his bare arm. Near the healing gash of the wound from Kelly Childs, was another one that looked just as long. He stared at it for a moment before he carried on, "The last thing I remember was something hitting me over the head, after that I must have blacked out."

Lestrade wrote quickly as he listened to what John said. "Right, thanks John. Can you tell us anything about the ones that did this to you?" he then asked, hoping he would be able to give them a description.

"I know there were three of them, one younger than the others. The younger one, he had brown hair, and mismatch eyes one a deep brown, the other lighter. The other one, the elder one, he had a scar over his right eye, long going towards the hairline. His eyes were dark blue, and his hair was longish, almost to his shoulders, black." He said as he closed his eyes, trying to picture what he could about the attackers, "Sorry Greg, that's all I can remember." He voice was soft as he began to tire a little from the day's events.

"Okay, thanks John, I'll get this back to the station and see how everything is going." Lestrade said as he stood up and smiled to the doctor. "Take care of yourself John," he told him as he patted a leg and headed towards the door.

"I will, see you Greg," he smiled back as the Detective Inspector walked out of the room.

"See you Gregory." Mycroft gave a nod to him. Sherlock gave a small nod in his direction, focus still on John.

"Where did Harry go?" John asked as he looked to Sherlock, waiting for him to answer.

"I would think that she went back home." He answered as he then said, "I think it might be a good idea to change your emergency contact details, so that we don't have to deal with her again."

John brought a hand up as he rubbed his forehead, as best as he could with the bandage in the way. He winced a little as he came into contact with a cut that was lying underneath, "Yeah, might be a good idea. I can't believe how she acted when she was here," he said softly, he didn't like the fact that he was basically cutting his sister out of his life, but he couldn't keep up with what she was doing to herself.

"Do you need some pain Medication John?" Mycroft asked as he looked carefully at the doctor.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you." John protested instantly, "I'll get the papers done soon so she wont be called again."

"I can see to that for you," The elder Holmes said helpfully.

"Yes, he made an addition to mine a few months ago." Sherlock told his friend, "I don't want Mycroft sticking his nose in all the time." He added as he shot a look to his brother.

Mycroft rolled his eyes at the jibe, but said nothing as he looked to John, "it's easier when something happens to have someone on there that knows you well, as you know my brother well, you have been added to his. I trust your judgement when it comes to him." He told him, "I can have Sherlock added to yours, since I don't think Harriett is up to the job."

John sighed a little, "yeah, I know. She is family, and I do care about her, but she has become really vicious after I was shot and brought back to England. I just wish I knew what had caused it." He told them gently. "When she's sober she is wonderful, but with a drink in hand, well, you've seen her."

"I doubt that you will even be able to find the answer to that," Sherlock told him.

John nodded his head as he rested back against the mound of pillows behind him. He closed his eyes a little, enjoying the darkness that it brought him, relief from the bright lights of his room.

"I shall take my leave John, do be careful and look after yourself." Mycroft said as he looked to the man on the bed.

John opened his eyes, wincing at the light once again as he said, "thanks for coming Mycroft. You didn't have to, but thanks. And yeah, change it so it's Sherlock and not Harry."

"I will get straight on it," he smiled as he nodded to Sherlock, "good bye Sherlock." With that he left the room, leaving the two friends alone.

"You should get some sleep, and rest while you can." Sherlock said as he looked to his friend, he could see that the doctor was in pain as well as tired, by not only what had gone on that day, but also the after effects of the flu he had only just got rid of.

"Yeah," John nodded, as he lay down on the bed properly, wincing as his body and head protested each movement.

Sherlock stood and straighten the blanket out and sat back down, taking John's hand. John opened his eyes, a littler curious about why, but just smiled and closed them again, "I'll make sure Harry doesn't bother you, though I don't think she will come back at all now." The detective said as he watched John nod slightly as he quickly relaxed into sleep.

Sherlock smiled a little as he held John's hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of it, settling back in his chair, not willing to go anywhere but to remain there and watch over John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and the kudos. All mistakes remain my own. If you spot any, please tell me so I can fix them. Enjoy the chapter!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

John looked up from where he was sat on the edge of his hospital bed. He was finally going to go home. He was still a little tired and cranky because of the lack of sleep he had while he was there, but that was to be expected with a concussion. He smiled as Sherlock walked into the room with the last of his discharge papers. He stood up, wincing as his ribs once again made themselves known to him that moving wasn't a good idea.

"Are you sure you don't want a wheelchair to take you to the taxi?" Sherlock asked as he looked to his friend. The nurse had insisted that Sherlock bring one with him, but he had left it outside, just in case his friend did wish to use it.

John could see the worry in his friend's eyes and said softly, "I'm fine Sherlock. I just need to get up and moving around a little. I'll soon be chasing you over the roof tops again."

Sherlock sighed as he nodded reluctantly, he went over to him and picked up the small bag of things that Mrs Hudson had given over to one of Mycroft's minions to bring over for them. "All right," he said as the door opened once again and Dr Inis walked in.

"Hello Dr Watson," he smiled as he looked to the now standing beside his bed, "just a few things to go over as you leave us, though I have no doubt that you already know what you need to do."

John smiled to him and nodded, "Yes I know, take it easy. If I start to feel ill, to come back, especially if anything else develops, numbness, dizziness, vomiting and such, I know the symptoms to look out for." he ended, giving the other doctor a grin.

Dr Inis nodded and grinned, "Yes," he chuckled as he then added, "I hope I don't see you again, and make sure to take care of yourself. And do use the wheelchair provided. Standard procedure, you know that." he reminded the two me, as he had seen the wheelchair outside of the room.

"I will, and thank you for the help." John smiled back, "I'd rather not use the wheelchair," he insisted as he looked to the other man.

Dr Inis sighed, he could tell that John would be stubborn about it, "I'll leave it to your discretion, but I advise that you do."

"I'll take it under advisement," he reposed with a nod.

"Bye Dr Watson," he said with a smile as he turned and began to leave the room.

"Bye Dr Inis, and thank you," John said once more as he then turned to Sherlock after the doctor had left.

"Well Sherlock, I'm ready to go home," he said wearily looking to his friend.

Sherlock gave a nod of his head, a small smile on his face. Happy that John was coming home now, even though he wasn't fully recovered. Sherlock hadn't stepped foot in Baker Street since he had found out about John's attack. He hovered close to John as they slowly made their way through the maze of hospital corridors. They stepped out into the London air and got into the waiting taxi. It didn't take long for them to be on their way home.

John looked over to Sherlock as they sat in the back of the cab and asked softly, "Why didn't you go home last night?"

Sherlock looked to him and replied with his own question, "and what makes you think I didn't?"

"Because in the bag with my things, there's some clothes that belong to you. Along with the fact that I can tell you haven't shaved today, as you have a bit of a shadow. Also, every time I was woken up, you were still there, barely moved." He replied with his observations, a soft smile on his face.

"I worry John. You went to work, went to Tesco and didn't come back. Then I find out from Lestrade that something had happened to you. I couldn't help but think back to the night at The Pool." He said, a shudder running up his spine as he thought of that night.

John sighed gently as he said, "I'm sorry for worrying you."

Sherlock looked over and shook his head as he told his friend gently, "It isn't your fault. There is nothing for you to be sorry about."

"I can still be sorry though." He said as the taxi soon pulled up to the curb outside of their home.

John got out first, wincing as he stood up and went to the door. Sherlock paid for the taxi quickly as he rushed to the front door and opened it for John. He hovered behind John as he walked up the stairs, the doctor couldn't help but roll his eyes at how protective his flatmate was being. Though he knew that a part of it had to do with Moriarty and the incident at The Pool. He walked over to his chair and sat down, sighing as he finally felt as though he was truly home.

"Tea?" Mrs Hudson asked as she walked into the room, and looked down to John. A hint of relief in her eyes that he was back home, though there was still a little worry hidden behind it.

"That would be wonderful Mrs Hudson." He smiled in answered as she moved over to him.

"Oh what did they do to you my boy," she said as she knelt down to get a proper look at him, running a hand through his hair. He hand gently moving his face around so she could get a good look at him. She hadn't gone to the hospital as Sherlock had told her that they would be back home the next day.

"I'm fine Mrs Hudson, a few days and I'll be back to normal." He reassured her softly, taking a hold of her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

She shook her head as she stood up once again and went into the Kitchen, "Has that nice detective friend of yours got the ones who did it yet?" she asked as she made the three of them some tea, glad that she had thought to bring up some freshly baked biscuits.

"He said he had a good idea of who they were and would be going to take them in for questioning later on today." Sherlock was the one to answer as he sat on the sofa and watched his friend, noting that he was more relaxed now that he was home.

"Good to hear," she nodded to herself as she brought the tea in along with a plate of biscuits on a tray, making sure that they were in easy reach for John.

"Thank you Mrs Hudson, you are as ever, wonderful," John smiled to her happily as he picked up his tea and took a biscuit to dunk in it.

"I still say you should have listened to me yesterday," Sherlock mumbled as he looked to his friend and then picked up his cup, letting his hands wrap around it.

"It could still have happened. I needed to go to the shops anyway, so it still could have happened anyway. We were running low on a number of things. I don't suppose you had anything brought in while I was at the hospital either," John said with a slight shake of his head. It wouldn't have been something Sherlock would have thought about.

"I did a bit of shopping John, when Sherlock told me what happened." Mrs Hudson smiled to them both, "Oh Sherlock, have you seen the papers?" Mrs Hudson then asked as she got up and got the paper from the kitchen, where she had placed it earlier.

"I haven't had chance Mrs Hudson, been a little busy," he answered her as she brought it over and handed it to him.

"Read it out Sherlock," John asked him, he didn't want to be reading the newspaper just yet, since he knew it would hurt his head a little more.

Sherlock nodded his head as he began to read the article.

**No Leads in Murder Case**

_As the investigation into the murders of three local women moves into its eighth week, there have been no new leads. All avenues that the police were investigating have gone dry, as they are no closer to catching the killer. The three women, they have been named as, Martha Read, 32, murdered on the 7th August, Mary-Ann Summers, 29, murdered on the 31st August and Annie Harris, 34, murdered on the 8th September, were each killed in the early hours of the morning and found at day break._

_Rumours have been tossed around about their killer, even killers, as it was first to have been believed as being separate cases. DI Smithton laid those rumours to rest yesterday afternoon, during a press conference._

" _These killings are the work of one man, we have new evidence that has been found to link all three women to the same killer," DI Smithton was quoted to have said. He is also asking that if there is anyone out there that might have information about the last known movements of the victims to please come forwards. There is no word from him what the evidence was, and there are also no details on how the women were killed, only that a knife was used._

_DI Smithton is now facing the mounting pressure from the public as he tries to handle an investigation of this size. He is a new DI, promoted only recently, and one has to think of how much pressure this is putting on the DI. There are rumours going around that if nothing happens soon, the investigation will be given to someone who has more experience in homicide._

_The women of this city are too afraid to go out alone. And they are not the only ones. People are taking a number of precautions in case this killer strikes again. I for one will be doing the same. We have been told to make sure to let others known where we are, whom we are with and what we are doing. Also to try and stay with someone you know when you go out. I give two words to the women of this city, and they are, Be Safe._

Sherlock finished reading the small article and then looked to John and Mrs Hudson. He waited a moment before he said, "well, looks like he is as incompetent as the rest of them."

John shook his head a little at him as he told Sherlock, "He's new, and by the sounds of it, it will be transferred to someone else. If it is, I think it will be Lestrade. He had a good reputation of closing cases under his belt, thanks to you. And you know if it does go to him he will most likely call you in as soon as he can."

"Let us hope for that then Sherlock," Mrs Hudson smiled as she stood up and said, "Well, I shall leave you two boys alone, and make sure to take care of each other. And Sherlock," she called out getting the mans attention, "Key a good eye on him."

Sherlock gave a small smile, "I will."

"Bye Mrs Hudson and thank you for the tea." John said as he saw Sherlock nod his head before lying down on the sofa.

Mrs Hudson smiled at the two of them as she then left the flat, going back to her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and the kudos. So happy that so many of you are liking this one.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> I am on tumblr these days. If you have questions just pop on over and ask and I will answer. Here is the link to my [tumblr](http://duochanfan.tumblr.com).

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Sherlock swung around on the sofa until he was lying down, staring at the ceiling. He thought through the last nine days. First it was John being ill, and then being attacked. He glanced over to his friend, who was holding the mug in his hands as he stared at it. John had been sitting like that for the last twenty minutes. Since he had got up that morning. Sherlock could tell that he was brooding on his attack. Berating himself for letting them get the drop on him.

"You scared me." Sherlock admitted to him, his voice was full of worry as he rolled onto his side to face John properly, "I thought that Moriarty had gotten to you again when you didn't answer my texts."

John looked up, startled at the admission, "I'm sorry," he said softly. He didn't like the fact that he had worried his friend.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Sherlock sighed as he rolled back onto his back. He once again turned his eyes towards the ceiling.

"Maybe, but I don't like the thought that I've worried you." He smiled to him as he leaned back in his chair, "could this week get any worse," he mumbled as he thought over the last several days.

"I have no doubt that it could John, and I didn't think you were the type to court the powers that be in making things worse." Sherlock said as he sent a smirk over to the doctor.

John thought for a moment and then curse, "Crap."

Sherlock laughed at that, and John joined in until his ribs protested with a grimace of pain he stopped laughing. Sherlock looked over and shook his head; "I think I will have to stop you from laughing for a while."

"Not nice Sherlock." John said as he held his ribs, calming down as he looked to him, "What are your thoughts on the three women that have been murdered?" he then asked as he caught sight of the paper on the coffee table.

Sherlock looked over to him, "There is nothing note worthy about the case, from what I have read in the paper."

"Yeah, but there could be more that isn't known by the papers. Don't they normally try and stop some of the details of a case from getting out?" He asked as he looked to the paper.

"That can be true, but I have already deduced that the women were prostitutes," he said, a bored tone.

"How can you possibly know that?" John said, his eyes wide as he wanted an answer.

"Simple, the women were all beaten, some of them have a heavy cover of make up on their faces, from the pictures taken. Now, most women won't use that much make up. Most that do use that much are those that need to cover up marks. And if you look closely at the picture of Martha Read, you can see that there is a shadow there, its covering up a bruise. She has no husband or boyfriend. I can only surmise that she is a prostitute. Now, with one woman, that's fine. But the third victim, Annie Harris also has the same shadowing under an eye, while the second one, has a bite mark on her neck, barley visible, but still there. Now, on one victim, this might just be a coincidence, and nothing of note. But with something on all three, there is a high probability of them being ladies of the night." he explained, bored at what he was saying, it was so simple, and sometimes he had to wonder why others couldn't see what he saw, "Their killer, most likely, is one of their customers."

"You got all that just from the pictures?" John couldn't help but be impressed by what his friend had just said.

"It was simple," he sighed as he jumped up from the sofa and went over to the desk.

"Maybe," John shook his head gently, being careful as he did so. He didn't want to start his head pounding just yet. It would be a while longer before he could take an Ibuprofen to help with the pain, "right," John said as he caught sight of the time, "I'm going to make some dinner, and you Sherlock are going to be eating as well." He stood up from where he was sat.

Sherlock turned to look at him and commanded, "Sit back down John, you were told to take it easy." He walked over to him and stared until the man was sat back in his chair.

"Sherlock," John spoke with a frown as he added, "we need to eat, and its dinner time. I don't know about you, but having to eat something at the hospital wasn't going to happen. So I for one would like dinner, even if you would rather not eat."

"It's not that I would rather not eat, I just don't think you should be standing around trying to cook when you should be resting. Now how about we order something in?" he suggested as he went back to looking out of the window.

"Chinese?" John asked, wondering which one Sherlock would go for this time.

"No, I was thinking more along the lines of Greek, Chinese is for when we finish a case." Sherlock said absently as he turned to smile a little to his friend.

"Sure, sounds good to me. You have a menu around here somewhere?" he then asked as he waited for Sherlock to bring one over since he was adamant about not letting him get out of his chair at all.

Sherlock nodded and picked one up from the desk and brought it over, "I already know what I'm going to have. And I can properly guess what you are going to have," he said, sure of himself.

"All right, if you know what I want, then go and order. If it isn't you are going to be going to the shops to get milk for the next month and there will be no experiments in the kitchen for a week." John said, as he looked to his friend, they had only had Greek once before.

"Very well, and if I get it right, what should I get?" Sherlock asked, a smirk on his face, "you know, I think I will keep what I want till another time, you'll owe me."

John looked to him and felt for a vague moment that he was about to sell his soul to the devil. He sighed and said, "all right, but don't go over board with your request."

"I wont." He grinned as he picked up the phone and dialled the Greek Restaurant and placed their order. John couldn't help but wince as he listens to him; he had ordered his favourites and had even gotten the extra Gyro's he normally ordered. He put the phone down and smirked to John, he could already tell he had won that little wager.

"I should really learn against betting with you. But I never do." He shook his head, wincing a little as it sent a warning throb.

"You all right John?" Sherlock asked as he went over and knelt by him, getting a good look at him as he did so.

John smiled to him, "yeah, I'm fine, my head still hurts. But I can't take anything for another hour at least."

"I don't like it when you are in pain, it isn't right." He sighed softly, reaching up to cup John's face, to look at him properly. John only just about heard the words he had spoken.

"I know the feeling, I don't like it when you are either." He sighed a soft look on his face as he leaned into the touch.

Sherlock stood up, his fingers tracing a strong Jaw as he went back to the sofa. John felt a little confused by the action of his friend, but felt a guilty pleasure at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments and the kudos. I love you guys, you are all awesome!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> I am on tumblr these days. If you have questions just pop on over and ask and I will answer. Here is the link to my [tumblr](http://duochanfan.tumblr.com).

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

John could hear Sherlock as he moved around the flat. He couldn't be bothered to open his eyes. He relished the darkness that it brought, giving his head a rest from the bright lights. He heard a click and knew that the main overhead light had been turned off. He opened his blue eyes and smiled when he saw a silhouette of Sherlock moving around the room as he went to one of the lamps and turned it on. John smiled, the pain in his head had lessoned a little from his nap.

"Is that better?" the Consulting Detective said softly as he walked back over to him and sat on the arm of the sofa.

John looked up and answered, "Yeah, thanks." Enjoying the quiet of the evening and the low level of light.

Sherlock nodded a little as he smiled. He reached a hand down and grasped John's shoulder. Sherlock needed that physical contact to remind him that John was home. When Lestrade had come in and told him that John was in the hospital all he felt was something wrapping around his heart and squeezing it tightly. He felt as though he couldn't breath and he would soon fall into the darkness.

"Are you all right?" John voice broke him out of his thoughts as concerned blue eyes looked up at him and a warm hand lay gently on his own.

Sherlock was a little startled but looked to him, "Yes, why wouldn't I be?" he frowned as he removed his hand and jumped up from where he was sat and walked over to the windows and looked out to the street below.

"Sherlock," John said softly, "I can tell that something is bugging you," he told him, ignoring the twinge in his ribs as he stood up from the sofa and made his way over to stand beside Sherlock and regarded his friends pensive look.

"You…" he began to say and shook his head.

"Tell me what it is?" he commanded as he placed a hand on Sherlock's arm.

Sherlock looked down at him, and smiled softly, "I tried to text you so many times, but you didn't reply to them. I even called that woman at the clinic to see if she knew where you were. I even got Mycroft to try and find you. I couldn't help but think about Moriarty and thinking that he might have taken you again. I don't think I could live if something happened to you. Moriarty said he would burn the heart out of me, and over this last week," he paused as he turned to face John properly and shook his head a little, "No even longer than that. I know for a fact that you are truly the heart of me," he stepped a litter closer lifting a hand up to cup John's face, looking sadly at the swollen eye.

"Sherlock?" he questioned quietly his voice a mere whisper as he searched his friends face, hoping to find what Sherlock meant in his steely eyes. There was something there. It was the same something that was in his own eyes. The unspoken words were on his tongue, but John was too scared to say anything. Sherlock brought his other hand up as he ghosted over the bandage that was covering a nasty gash on the doctor's head.

Sherlock leaned down a little and kissed him, gently on the lips. He gave John time, in case he had read him wrong and he wanted to pull away. John didn't and leaned into the kiss. As they broke apart, John rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder as the other wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. The silence between them was comfortable as they both smiled softly.

"I have never been more scared in my life John, never." He whispered as he placed a kiss on John's head. His arms unconsciously tightening around John as though to keep him safe and beside him.

"You're not the only one. I've seen you put yourself in danger over and over again to catch the men or women you are after. Each time my heart leaps into my throat. I can't help but think, is this it? Is something going to happen that I can save you from?" He murmured wrapping his arms around Sherlock.

"I'm sorry," he whispered gently as he moved his head a little and leaned down, capturing John's lips again, "I'm sorry," he said as he pulled back a little to look into John's good eye.

"I know. We'll just have to try and be more careful." He sighed as the bell to the front door rang.

"That will be dinner. Now go and sit back down and I will dish up." Sherlock smiled as he watched John nod and went to sit down on his chair, "On the sofa John," he prompted before he could sit down.

"All right," John nodded, a little confused. he was all right to sit on his own chair to eat. John wondered why Sherlock wanted him there as he watched Sherlock come back in and start to dish up their food. It didn't take long for Sherlock to walk back in with two plates. He handed one to John and then sat down beside him. Sherlock ate with one handed as he wrapped his other arm around John's waist, keeping him close. John smiled, as he understood why Sherlock wanted him on the sofa with him. The rest of the evening was spent quietly, watching the mind numbing TV, according to Sherlock and his observations.

When it was time to go to bed they both went a little red as John made the suggestion that they take things a little slow and keep to their separate bedrooms. Neither of the two wanted to rush things and ruin what was growing between them. Sherlock nodded as he kissed John good night. John walked to his bedroom and thought for a moment that it would have been nice to spend the night with Sherlock. But he knew that he didn't want anything to ruin the friendship that they already had. If they moved too fast there was a large possibility of it happening, and neither wanted to risk it. They cared too much for each other.

John lay down on his bed after changing. He sighed, enjoying the feel of his own mattress, blankets and his own pillows. He smiled in content as he thought about the kisses and the cuddling that the two of them had done, with a smile firmly planted on his face, he fell asleep to those warm and happy thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments and the kudos. So glad that you are all enjoying the story so far. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> I am on tumblr these days. If you have questions just pop on over and ask and I will answer. Here is the link to my [tumblr](http://duochanfan.tumblr.com).
> 
> NaNoWriMo is almost here, around October I go into a state of hiatus until December. I will be posting until the 1st October, and won't be posting again until the 10th December.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Sherlock shot up in bed, breathing wildly as he looked around his bedroom. He tried to bring his mind away from the nightmare he had just had. It took a while for the normal view of his room to enter his mind. Reminding him that he was in his bedroom, at home in 221B Baker Street. He wasn't at the Pool, there wasn't a bomb, there was no Moriarty hanging around, nor any red dots. He breathed deeply as he then thought of what else was in his nightmare and shivered.

"John," he whispered as he shuddered at the remnants of his nightmare.

He threw back the covers of his bed and rushed out of his bedroom. He stood at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to John's bedroom. Sherlock took a breath and then two at a time. Missing out on the creaking step near the top of the seventeen steps. He reached John's closed door, and slowly and quietly opened it and stepped into the room. Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief when he saw John fast asleep, lying curled on his side facing towards the door.

Sherlock moved further into the room, he could hear the small snore that John had when he was deeply asleep. He kept walking towards the bed, taking small steps. He didn't wish to wake his friend. Or should that be something else now, with what had happened earlier in the living room? He hoped that the older male didn't want to use the term boyfriend, since to Sherlock it sounded childish. He knelt down by the bed and slowly reached out a hand, and gentle ran his fingers through the short blond hair. He was careful not to go over the bandage on the side of John's forehead. The tension that was present since he had woken from his nightmare faded away as he touched John. He let his mind rest now that he knew John was safe and at home.

"Wh…" John mumbled as he woke up at the gentle touch. One bleary eye was able to open and caught sight of Sherlock knelt on the floor, "What is it?" he asked softly wondering about the look of relief in the steel grey eyes.

"Sorry John," he apologised, "I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered softly, knowing that the elder man needed his sleep. It had been disturbed a lot while John was in the hospital, being woken up every so often to make sure he was all right.

"Don't worry," he smiled as he sat up and looked to him, "Now are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he asked once again, his voice soft and coaxing.

Sherlock sighed slightly, "Just a bad dream that felt surprisingly real."

"Get in," John said as he moved over in his bed and lifted the blankets.

Sherlock smiled and got in, lying down next to John, who lay back down with a warm smile on his face. The two of them were face to face now as Sherlock whispered, "Thank you."

"Welcome," John smiled as he then asked, "do you want to tell me what the dream was about?"

Sherlock tensed a little as he remembered what he had dreamed about, "The day that Moriarty kidnapped you. When I saw you at the pool and in that vest of semtex. The red dots of the snipers laser sights on you. This time, they shot at you, and I couldn't do anything to stop it, not a damn thing." he couldn't help the shudder that ran through him.

John moved closer as Sherlock reached out his arms and wrapped them around the doctor, John reached around Sherlock as well. They held each other close, "I'm right here Sherlock, I'm fine," he reassured him, as he was pulled closer to the younger man. John rested his head under Sherlock's chin and breathed deeply, sighing, as he smelled nothing but Sherlock. To him it signalled that he was home and safe.

"In my conscious mind I know that you are fine," he said as he paused and looked to him a little and then added, "well getting there. But when you went missing, it played on my fears," he whispered gentle, "I don't think I could take it if something happened to you." His voice was so quiet that John was only just able to hear the words.

"I feel the same Sherlock," he told him as he moved as close as he could, "Losing you would devastate me," he nodded gentle as sleep began to claim him once again.

Sherlock sighed in content as he held tight for a second and then loosened his grip a little as he felt John's breathing even out as he fell asleep. He remained awake a little longer, thinking over what had happened in the living room earlier. The young Consulting Detective had never thought he would find someone that would be able to put up with his habits. He had even made sure to warn John during their dinner at Angelo's. He just hadn't expected to end up feelings something for the doctor. He pressed a kiss to John's head and settled back, breathing in the scent that was uniquely John. Sherlock smiled happily as he closed his eyes and joined his partner in a restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos. You guys rock! I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> I am on tumblr these days. If you have questions just pop on over and ask and I will answer. Here is the link to my [tumblr](http://duochanfan.tumblr.com).
> 
> NaNoWriMo is almost here. Around October I go into a state of hiatus until December. I will try and make one last post on the 1st October, but no promises. I will not be posting again until the 10th December.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Sherlock was the first to wake up. Though that didn't really surprise him. They had moved a little in their sleep. Sherlock was now on his back, and John was curled up beside him. Johns blond head was resting on Sherlock's shoulder, their hands joined. Sherlock smiled as he felt John's breathing begin to change as he slowly woke up.

"Morning," Sherlock greeted as soon as John looked up to him. He captured John's lips in a good morning kiss.

"Morning," he smiled as he moved back after the kiss. He gave a small yawn as he relaxed against Sherlock. He wished he didn't have to get up al all.

"You know," Sherlock said softly, "I don't think I want to sleep in my own bed again, I think I would feel lonely."

John hummed in agreement as he said, "I don't think I would want to either, I enjoyed waking up to you."

"Same," he agreed as he closed his eyes, letting himself relax.

"We should get up," John said, even thought he didn't move a muscle.

"Don't see you even trying to move." Sherlock smirked as he opened his eyes again and looked to John.

John chuckled a little as he said, "Well, I'm rather comfortable at the moment. I'm not in too much pain either and my head's all right at the moment as well," he added, he could still feel his eye was swollen and slightly painful, but it wasn't that bad. He could ignore that.

"We have some **Ibuprofen** in if you need it." Sherlock said as the two of them slowly started to move.

Sherlock left the room to have a quick shower and to get some clothes from his own bedroom. John got out of his bed and sorted out what he wanted to wear. He waited for Sherlock to finished with the shower and then, grabbing his favorite jumper as he walked past, he went for a shower as well. It didn't take long for the two of them to bed dressed and ready for what ever the day may bring.

XxXxX

Sherlock finished cleaning up the plates after they had finished their lunch, which had been the left over Greek food from last night. John settled into his favorite chair and had begun to read one of his many fiction books, though he had already warned Sherlock not to ruin the ending. The Consulting Detective smiled a little as he dried his hands and went over to his microscope, he was finishing cataloging the mould residues from different spores. It was something he was planning on putting up on his website when he was finished.

John smiled as he read, hearing Sherlock mumble to himself as he worked on his experiments. He lifted the tea he had made and had a sip as he turned the page of his book over. Doing that one handed was hard. But after being shot in the shoulder, he had learned through necesity. He was enjoying the quiet, without Sherlock yelling he was bored, or asking him to do something, since he wasn't really up to it at that moment.

It was fifteen minutes after they settled down to their own activities that someone began to knock on their door. John and Sherlock knew that Mrs Hudson was out for the day, doing a little shoping with Mrs Turner. John put his book down and started to get up. He didn't think Sherlock had ever answered the door before.

"John stay where you are," Sherlock told him as he moved away from the kitchen and sent him a look.

"Okay," John sighed as he sat back down. He shook his head a little as he watched Sherlock head down the stairs.

Sherlock smiled to himself as John had listened to him and had sat back down. He left the living room and headed down the stairs. He went to the front door and opened it, on his doorstep was Lestrade and Donavon. The former was fine to come in, but the latter, well he would rather she is else where other than his home.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade said, shock evident in his voice.

"Yes, and who else would be answering the door to my home?" he said with a sneer, though he could tell that Lestrade ignored it. While Donavan was already trying to come up with something to say, "And please Sally, keep that mouth of yours shut, in fact, Lestrade, you may come in, but she can remain out here." He added as he looked from her to the Inspector.

"Sergeant, wait in the car," Lestrade said, understanding why Sherlock didn't want her in his home.

"But, Sir?!" She exclaimed as she sent Sherlock a sneer and then looked to her superior.

"Wait in the car, I don't need you to come with me," he ordered, his voice commanding her obedience.

Sally growled as she sent a sharp look to Sherlock and then went to the police car, to wait for her boss to come back out. Sherlock let Lestrade into the flat and up the stairs. The Inspector walked over to the sofa and sat down, he couldn't help but wince in sympathy as he caught sight of John. He looked better than he had when he saw him yesterday in the hospital, but that's only because he looked more rested.

"Hey Greg," John smiled as he nodded in greeting.

"Hey, looking a little better than yesterday." He said with a smile as Sherlock took a seat on the arm of John's chair. Lestrade could see that it was a protective gesture on the Consulting Detectives part, and he had to wonder what was going on. The young man had never done that before.

"So why are you here Inspector?" Sherlock asked, as he subtle held John's hand, just out of sight of the other male in the room.

"I have to say Sherlock, I didn't expect you to be answering the door," he said conversationally as he looked to the two men before him.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at that as he told him, "Well what do you expect. John's hurt and has been told to take it easy by his doctor. He is not to be jumping up and down every time someone comes to the door."

Lestrade nodded his head, "Okay," he then looked to John and said, "Well I'm here on official business this time."

John frowned, wondering what that could mean, "What about?" he asked.

"Well, first I think it's all right to tell you that we caught all three of them that attacked you. They've been identified by the CCTV footage and by the small description you made of two of them. Since one of them was pretty distinct." The Inspector smiled as he saw John do the same. The small upturn of the corners of Sherlock's mouth told him that he was doing the same.

"That's good to hear, I hope they weren't able to attack anyone else," John smiled, there was a hint of relief in his voice as he spoke softly, "You said first?" he then frowned, "What about the second thing you came here for?"

Lestrade grinned as he then told him, "As for the second thing that I am here for." He started as he paused a second to take a breath, "was that your things were recovered. I don't know if all of it was, so I'm going to have to ask you to come to the station and identify your items, if you don't mind that is?" he then asked, hoping that the other would be able to do so. Since it would be easier for them to get things started with prosecuting the three males.

"Wow, that's, all right with me. I'll come down and see if they are or not," John smiled warmly.

"Well, we can go in the car down stairs if you want?" Lestrade asked, though he had a feeling that Sherlock would be coming and he knew that the other wouldn't want to ride in a police car.

"We'll follow you by taxi Lestrade," Sherlock said as he looked to John and got a slight nod in agreement from him.

"All right, I'll be waiting for you at the station," he nodded as he stood up; narrowing his eyes a little as he saw the lightly clasped hands. He didn't say a word as he left the room though there was a smile on his face. He headed back down the stairs to the car and got in. Donavon was still pissed at him for telling him to remain in the car, and said nothing, but glare at him as he started the car and drove back to New Scotland Yard.

Sherlock looked to John and said softly, "I believe Lestrade saw our hands, I know he wont say anything. But I think he will be able to guess what is going on quiet quickly, he is the smartest of the Yarder's. Though…" he paused, "there might just be someone he would tell." he had been seeing signs of Lestrade dating someone, and he had a good idea who it might be as well. Though he wasn't going to say anything, until he could confirm it.

John stood up and looked to him, "That's all right, I don't mind people knowing. Though I would have like it if we could have had some more time for ourselves before people started to butt into our businesses." he gave a grin.

"As do I John," Sherlock grinned as he let go of John's hands and grabbed their coats, helping John on with his. He shrugged on his own and the two of them left the flat. Sherlock quickly hailed a taxi for the two of them and told it to head to New Scotland Yard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the brilliant comments and the kudos. You are all brilliant! So happy that people are enjoying this story. It has been almost a year since I first started writing this.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Sorry for taking a while to get this up. Been so busy, have to make a blanket for my Nan for Christmas, might post a pic of it on tumblr and I am going to be posting a Story for the 00Q reverse Big Bang sometime tomorrow.

**No Pain, No Gain**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

The two sat quietly next to each other in the back of the taxi. In the middle seat their hands were joined together. Each of them content with the simple gesture as they watched the streets pass them by.

The taxi pulled up at New Scotland Yard and the two of them let go of each other and climbed out, Sherlock paid the driver for once. He was tempted to help John out of the car when he saw the other wince in pain. He knew that John wouldn't appreciate it if he had done so. He held himself stiffly, waiting for John to get out and join him. John smiled at him as he stood straight and Sherlock relaxed as the two of them made their way into the building.

"Hey," Lestrade said from where he was stood, he was watching the two of them intently as they walked towards him.

John could see that the other was on his own and smiled, "hey."

"I always said that there was something between the two of you," he told them quietly, in case anyone was around that might hear him.

Sherlock looked to him, as did John, they quirked a grin at him as John said, "Maybe we just didn't want to see it until the time was right."

"Or maybe someone was being stubborn." Sherlock said as he glanced to John.

"Yeah," John smiled, as he knew that the both of them were like that at times, well a lot of the time.

"Congratulations," Greg said as he began to lead the way through the building, "are you telling anyone or not?" he then asked, wondering if he should keep what he had found out to himself.

"Well, we only got together yesterday, We would like it if you would stay quiet for a little while, as we get used to the change in our relationship," John said as he got a nod of agreement from Sherlock.

"Since it is new, we wish to explore our relationship without any interference from others. And by others I have no doubt my brother would be one and Donavan and Anderson will be the others." Sherlock told him.

Lestrade nodded his head, he knew that Donavan and Anderson would try and do their best to cause trouble for the two, "Fine with me." He agreed easily, though he wondered how long it would take Mycroft to find out.

"Thank you," John said warmly, "we appreciate it, and since one of the first things Donovan said to me when I first met her was did Sherlock follow me home. I don't want her or Anderson to know just yet."

"It was more of a case you followed me." Sherlock grinned to him.

John chuckled as he nodded, "well, that's true in a way. Though maybe it should be you texted and I answered." causing Sherlock to chuckle.

"That came a little later," he told him, a smirk on his face.

Lestrade looked between the two of them wondering what that was all about, "what do you mean by that?" he asked, a smile as he could see what ever it was that they were going on about was making the two of them laugh, in a way he had never seen Sherlock do before.

"I don't think I told you how the two of us met did I?" John said, referring to the occasions when he and Greg would go out for a drink.

"No, that's one thing that you've never told me." Lestrade nodded as he looked between the two of them, seeing them chuckle at some underlying joke.

"One of my old friends, from when I trained at St Barts, came across me as I was walking about. We got talking and I mentioned who would want me as a flatmate. Mike had heard someone say the same thing earlier that day, from Sherlock. Next thing I know, I'm in one of the labs at St Barts and Sherlock is there. He asks me Afghanistan or Iraq, and I had no clue as to how he knew. He had deduced that I was home from Afghanistan because of injury, about my sister's drinking habits, everything within those few minutes of meeting. Later on I'm outside 221B Baker Street and seeing the flat, then you turn up and he drags me with him, though maybe less on the dragging part." John tells him a short version of what happened the day that he and Sherlock had first met.

"So it was the other way around from what Donavan said then," he said with a shake of his head as they finally got where they needed to be.

John nodded with a grin, "Yep. The text and answer but came a little later." he finished, grin going a little wider as he remembered their first meetings and what happened after.

"Right, Mason!" Greg called out as the man came out from the back of the room, "Things from the Mugging case, number 492644," he said as he waited for the man to nod and bring everything from the back.

"Here you go Inspector," Mason said as he brought out the two trays with items on them, "these were found when all three of the men brought in," he added as he looked to the two civilians.

"So John, pick out what's yours and we can see if the rest belong to someone else." He said as he waited for John to take a step forwards and look at what had been gathered.

"Well, that's my wallet, my keys," he said as he snorted, "Well, I didn't expect to still see my phone there. Thought they would have off loaded that as quickly as they could." He was a little surprised to see it with the things that had been taken from him.

"They couldn't pawn it," Lestrade tells them both as John looked to him puzzled, while Sherlock shook his head.

"Don't be obtuse John, the engraving on the back," he told him with a sigh.

John chuckled as he shook his head, "Yeah, I should have remembered that."

"Well, that's all we need from you, we can get this lot released to you in another day or so. Hope you don't mind the wait." Lestrade tells them as he looks to John, "As soon as we showed the younger one the engraving on your phone he confessed and pined his mates straight away." He grinned, he loved easy cases like this, where the perpetrators were easy to grab and quick to confess.

John nodded and said softly, "Well, that's good."

"All right, is that all you need from us?" Sherlock asked him, wondering if the other had a case for them to work on. Something that he could do from home, he didn't want to take John out while he was still recovering from his mugging.

"Yes that's all for now." He smiled as he shook his head, he could see the egger look in Sherlock's eyes, and he saw John rolling his good eye, "we have a few cold cases that you could take a look at, but nothing more than that. The only real murder inquiry going on at the moment is Smithsons one. My last one was cleared up yesterday. As for the other departments, you'll have to ask with them," He said, it was a simple case that he knew that if he called Sherlock in for him he would have been called all kinds of idiot. He knew that Sherlock worked all kinds of cases at times, not just the murder ones.

"I'll take the cold cases, if you don't mind," he said as he looked to Lestrade, the Inspector was a little surprised that he wouldn't be bothering the other departments for something to do.

"Sure, come with me to my office, I've got about six that I'm working on," he nodded as he looked to John and said, "you all right to move around, or do you want to go home and I'll bring them by later."

John was about to open his mouth to answer that it would be fine to go up when Sherlock spoke instead, "Bring them by the flat."

John looked to his partner and said, "I'm all right to go up and get some files you know Sherlock. I'm fine at the moment, I'm not in any pain at the moment."

Sherlock looked to him as he spoke softly, "I know, I can tell. I would like to keep it that way for a while longer, you were also told that you needed to rest. I intend for you to do so as much as possible," it was his eyes that told John that the other was worried, and concerned for him.

"All right," he said with a sigh, knowing that Sherlock would make a bigger fuss if he didn't do as he wished.

"Right, I'll be bringing a few over for you." Lestrade said, a soft smile on his face as he watched the two of them interact. There had been something between the two of them as soon as he saw them in Brixton, he had watched the two since then, as their ease with each evolved. Sometimes he could even swear that the two of them were talking silently to each other at times.

"Well Lestrade, we shall see you later." Sherlock said as he turned, John following closely behind him as the two left the room.

Greg watched the two of them and shook his head as he saw Mason take the items to the back. He walked out of the room, going up to his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for the comments and the kudos. I love you guys


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Hope you had a wonderful Holiday and a Happy New Year. I shall be going back to my normal schedule of updating once a week on a Wednesday.
> 
> I am on tumblr these days. If you have questions just pop on over and ask and I will answer. Here is the link to my [tumblr](http://duochanfan.tumblr.com).

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

Greg settled into his office chair and pulled out on of the cold cases that he had been working on. He was working on almost ten cases in total, along side John's case. There was no chance that he would leave John's case to anyone else even though he should have done. John was a close friend, and in a way he was also a colleague.

"Have you finally finished in dealing with the freak and his little side kick?" Donovan asked as she walked into Greg's office. She had closed the door behind her, and was now standing in front of his desk with her arms crossed over her chest, staring down at him.

"Donovan," he said. There was no hint of any emotion in his voice for a moment, but it soon became harder and colder as he carried on talking, "I have asked you a number of times to refer to everyone by their names. That includes Sherlock and John. You are, I hope, a professional. That means you should act like it. If I had my way the two of them would be brought in on a lot more cases and in a more official manner." Greg wanted to bring Sherlock and John brought in as professional consultants, which meant that they would be paid for what they did and for the danger that they often found themselves facing. It would also be a way for them to get the back up that they occasionally needed when they went after a criminal, or did some undercover work.

"But Sir…" she began to say, taking a step forwards, her arms falling to her side. Donovan then saw the cold and dark look that he was sending her and cut herself off before she could say anything more.

"No buts Sergeant Donovan. I have been far too lenient with you and Anderson over the years that Sherlock has worked with us. And don't think that I haven't noticed that Sherlock never says anything to the two of you until after you have made disparaging remarks about him, or called him a name as thought you were both school children. You also try and put him down, about what he was able to do." He stared at her, his eyes hard and unforgiving. Greg had a lot of respect for what Sherlock could do.

Donovan growled low in her throat. She couldn't stand the freak. He didn't care about anything that happened to those around him. He didn't care about the victim or what happened to them, nor about those that were left behind. All he cared about was solving the problem, having a challenge and fun doing it. "Sir, you know he doesn't really care. All he wants is something interesting to do, and solving a murder is nothing but that for him, a bit of fun," she told him, shaking her head in disgust.

Lestrade snorted and shook his head at her, "Oh he cares all right. I can see that, and so can others, if you know Sherlock properly. You and Anderson are barely a blip for him, you don't know him at all, you didn't care to even try. You saw what he could do and you started in on him. He may have been a druggie back then, but he got clean, and he has stayed clean as well. I took the time to get to know him over the last six years of working with him, and that is more that I can say with you two and others. He hides a lot away because of people like you. Because you judged him at first glance instead of taking the time to get to know him and see what was underneath the brass and confident exterior." he informed her. He thought of the years he had known and worked with Sherlock and all the things he had picked up from him. All the things that contradicted the self proclaimed sociopath diagnosis.

Donovan looked at him, "I think you're wrong."

Lestrade snorted once more, "You see, you only see and hear what you want. You don't even want to try and give it a chance. If you just take the time to ignore what you think you know, you may just find out what he is really like. It's there for you and others to see if you can be bothered," he told her, hoping he would be able to get through to her. He was getting sick of her attitude towards Sherlock, and now towards John. The doctor had never said anything bad towards her until he had heard what she and Anderson had called Sherlock and to call her out on the behaviour.

She shook her head a little, "He will always be a psychopath to me and others. WE will be around a body one day and he will be the one that has put it there, you'll see," she told him as she then said, "I only came in to see if you needed help with anything.

"No," he answered her, as he then watched her leave the room.

Lestrade looked to the files he had on his desk and picked out the ones he was having the most trouble on getting a lead for. He knew that most of them wont hold Sherlock's attention for long, but at least most of them would be solved before he would be leaving Sherlock and John's home. Sherlock had a way of seeing all the things that he and other would miss. Lestrade was slowly learning, but it was still taking a while for him to spot the things. He finally chose five of them and made sure that everything was in the files. He looked towards the clock and saw that it was almost time to clock out. It wouldn't hurt to leave now, since in a way he would still be working. He stood up and grabbed his coat. he walked out of his office and headed towards the lift, he passed by Donovan and Anderson as he walked. The two of them were talking to each other quietly. Lestrade shook his head, as he already knew what the two of them were talking about by the sneers and looks of disgust on their faces. He carried on down to the parking lot and got in his car, heading straight for Baker Street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the brilliant comments and kudos, you guys are awesome! Hope you all enjoy this little chapter. It's more of a filler than anything.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Sorry for not posting, but last week my sister-in-law gave birth to my niece so I have been a little bust with family. Back to normal next week.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter 28**

Gregory Lestrade walked up the stairs to the living room of 221B Baker Street after Mrs Hudson had let him in. He could hear quiet talking going on, he could hear the distinct voice of Sherlock, and then the quieter tones of John. He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard the call to come in. He was a little shocked to see Sherlock on the sofa, with John curled up next to him, both of them were reading books, though he could tell that Sherlock's was a non-fiction book unlike John's.

"Lestrade," Sherlock said with an eager grin on his face and hand held out in expectation.

Lestrade shook his head as he handed over the files to him as John stood up, "there are five there, I know they wont keep you occupied for long, and I know you are going to call me all kinds of stupid for not noticing things, but…" he trailed off, he had gotten used to the remarks of being stupid from Sherlock years ago, and they now just slid off his back, when before they would often rile him up.

"Good to know that you admit it Inspector, there maybe some hope for you yet," Sherlock said with a smirk, he already had one of the files open and looking through the pictures that came with it, "These pictures are quite good, did Anderson take lessons finally?" he asked as he saw some good quality prints.

"If that's the Highten Case then it was Greaves that did the pictures for that one, Anderson was ill that day," Lestrade answered him as he moved a little closer to look.

"Well, maybe you should get her to take all the pictures, they are of a higher quality, much better than Anderson," he said as he looked them over, taking note of all the things that could have, and most likely had been missed at the crime scene.

Lestrade shook his head, it was something that Sherlock had said right from the start when it came to Anderson, that he couldn't take proper pictures of a scene, "I'll make a note of it, though most of the time I don't get a choice but to have Anderson, he is the senior scientist," he told him.

"Here Greg, go and sit down next to him so you can go through it all together." John said as he held a mug of tea for the Detective Inspector to take.

"Oh, thank you John," he nodded as he moved around the coffee table and took the place where John had been sat before.

"I thought you were to take it easy John, I could have done that," Sherlock said as he looked up and saw a mug being held out for him to take, an annoyed look on his face.

"Sherlock, I'm fine to make tea, it isn't going to kill me and it wont do nothing else either," John sighed heavily as he went and got his own mug from the kitchen and sat in his normal chair, "oh and I plan on cooking tonight, Mrs Hudson did some shoping for us and got us a lot of food in," he said, sending the other a look.

Sherlock looked to him and said softly, "Will you…"

"Sherlock, I'm not helpless, I can do things, how do you think I coped after being shot?" he snorted with a shake of his head.

Sherlock went silent at that, not liking the feeling of worry it invoked in him, "I can't even begin to think how you did, and I don't like that," he said softly.

John smiled at him, "I may be a little shorter than most, especially when stood next to you, but I was in the army Sherlock. I know how to take care of myself, even when injured. The one to the shoulder isn't the first time I was shot. It was the third. It was the worst I've been hit, I can admit that, but still, a few bruised ribs, concussion, a swollen eye and a few more cuts and bruises are nothing to worry about," his voice was soft and reassuring Sherlock that he was truly all right.

"I just don't like the fact that you got hurt, and I wasn't there to help, to stop it," he admitted freely, both of them were ignoring the presence of the other man in the room.

"I'm fine, I'm home, I'm safe and we need to work on these cold cases," he said as he caught a glance at Lestrade smiling at the two of them, "sorry about that Greg," he grinned to him, a little embarrassed.

"Don't worry about me, if you two need to talk about things," he smiled to John and then looked to Sherlock, "just go ahead."

"Sorry Lestrade, we should get to work," Sherlock said as he gave one last glance over to John before looking down to the files that had been brought and started to look through them once again. John and Greg both trying to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the brilliant comments and kudos. You guys are the best! Hope you are still enjoying this story.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> I am on tumblr these days. If you have questions just pop on over and ask and I will answer. Here is the link to my [tumblr](http://duochanfan.tumblr.com).

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter 29**

The time ticked away as they went though the cases one by one, they were working through another case when John stood up. He had put his book down a while back and had been watching the two of them work together to solve the cases, or at least come up with new roads of inquires that the police could take. The two worked well together when Sherlock wasn't insulting Greg.

"Greg, do you want to stay for dinner?" John asked as the two of them looked up to him.

"Erm…" he said a little shocked at the question, "if you don't mind the extra mouth to feed," he said, a little unsure.

"Right, you're staying then, and Sherlock, I know that you normally wont eat today, but I want you to, so you are," he said as he gave a pointed look to his partner.

Sherlock sighed a little put out at having to eat, but nodded, "fine, just not a lot today."

John went into the kitchen and began to prepare the food for some spaghetti bolognas. Lestrade looked to Sherlock and asked him after fifteen minutes had passed, "is it all right if I stayed, if I'm in the way just tell me and I'll leave," he knew that some couples, especially new one preferred their alone time.

"It's fine, if John asked you to stay, it's all fine," he said as he looked to the next picture and said, "She cheated on her husband, but with only one. She would have made a note of the meeting though, a work colleague, someone that he husband would think of as a friend to his wife," he told him what he thought on the case that they were working on.

"How did you work that out?" he asked as he glanced over the same picture and couldn't see anything that would lead him there.

"The planner near her, its has the same three letters, and a time for four of the days, and the way it is written suggests a more intimate relationship between the two, find the one that it corresponds too and you may just find you murder, since she was found dear not long after one of those meeting should have began," he said as he pointed it out, Lestrade had to struggle a little as he looked to it and vaguely could see the three letters and a time.

"I can barley see that," he said with a shake of his head.

"Lestrade, not many could, I hope you have the planner in evidence still?" he then asked as he looked to the Inspector.

Lestrade nods and says, "Yeah, it's still there. It might be a five year old case, but we've still got all the things we collected, we didn't release them back to the husband," he then paused for a moment and said to him, "can you actually call me Greg one of these days?"

"Greg?" Sherlock asked, wondering where that had come from.

"My name, my first name. I'm not really on the clock now, so can we occasionally do casual names," he said softly, he was always called Lestrade by Sherlock, always, and sometimes he would like for the other to call him Greg, as a friend would normally do.

"Hmmm," Sherlock nodded, "fine with me, Greg," he pauses a second and said, "it feels a little odd calling you that after all this time."

Greg chuckled, "well, I thought of six years of knowing you, you could finally call me by my name when we're not on a crime scene or at the yard. I consider you a friend Sherlock, don't know what you think of me," he said with a shake of his head.

Sherlock looked to him as he said, "I do consider you a… friend I suppose, I think highly of you, even when you are being an idiot."

"Consider that the highest honour Greg," came a call from the kitchen as well as a few chuckles.

Greg laughed and shook his head, "Good to know I'm classed as a friend."

"Right," John said as he walked back in, "dinner is almost done, just waiting for the pasta to be done. And for once, Sherlock's experiments have been cleaned up from the dining table," he grinned. After they had gotten back from the Yard, John had been able to get Sherlock to clean up his experiments and to make sure the table was disinfected in case anything was growing somewhere is shouldn't.

"Is it safe to eat off?" Greg asked, a smirk on his face as he looked from Sherlock to John.

John laughed, holding his ribs slightly as they protested a little, "Yeah, I made sure of that, disinfected the lot of it just as well, though Sherlock did do so earlier."

"Good to know you don't trust me on that John," Sherlock sniffed a little towards his partner.

"I'm a doctor Sherlock, I like to make sure myself," he smiled easily as he went back into the kitchen. "Dinners done get in here," he shouted a few minutes later as the two men stopped their work and got up, going into the kitchen, the smell of the food making the inspector's stomach rumble, since he had missed lunch and breakfast that day.

"Thanks for letting me stay," Greg said as he and Sherlock sit down, John soon joining them as he brings over his own plate.

"Well, I don't mind cooking if someone is going to enjoy it, most of the time I cook and it goes away to be reheated later on," John said as he looked over, "Sherlock has a tendency to eat every few days, believe it or not this is the first time I've known him to eat twice in two days," he smiled, looking happy at the thought as he looked to his partner.

"That maybe the case John, but I have noticed that you do not eat as much as you did when you first moved in now a days," Sherlock said, "You've began to eat less," he added as he thought about it.

"Even I eat less than people should Sherlock, job's do get in the way at times, especially with what we do," Greg said as he nodded at the thought. In essence he knew that John was basically working two jobs, one at the clinic, and the other when he was called out with Sherlock.

"Hmmm," he hummed a little as he looked to John and said, "Should always carry something around to eat, something nutritious, it wouldn't do if something happen to you during a chase."

John rolled his eye as he glanced at the two of them, "Greg, you should know its a bad idea to not eat, so make sure you do, and Sherlock, I do work and I do eat when I am there. I always try and have something. I know that you need a balanced diet. You could always eat more, it looks like a strong wind will break you half the time," he told the two of them.

Greg nodded his head a little, agreeing with John's assessment, "I'll try at least John," he got a nod from the doctor.

"Good to hear," John said, at least one of them were going to listen to him, he knew that it would be almost impossible for the Consulting Detective to change the habits of a life time.

The three ate, talking quietly about the cases that Sherlock and Greg were going over. John listened, adding things every now and then, though he knew that he wasn't helping that much, he didn't have the eye for the things they do for cases, though Sherlock had told him that he was getting better at observing and not just seeing what is around him. Sherlock insisted on cleaning up. Greg and John went back into the living room and sat down, John on the sofa looking through the files that Greg and Sherlock had gone through, he knew that there wouldn't be anything that he could add to it, but a doctors insight might be able to get them what they needed to put pressure on. Or so Greg had told him. The rest of the night quickly passed, with Greg staying another two hours before he finally left the two alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter. A little more romance to come before another case comes up!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Thirty**

John smiled as the woman before him stood up, the small three year old clinging to her as she did so. He had just finished treating the child. There was nothing seriously wrong with him, just a minor infection that should be cleared up by the antibiotics that he had just prescribed for the child.

"Thank you so much, Doctor," she smiled as she hefted her son a little higher on her hip.

"Just make sure he takes the medication until the end, and if it doesn't clear up by the end, come back and see me," he smiled to her, she was his last patient for the day. He had gone back to work the day before, but today had been his first full day at the clinic. He had a new scar on his forehead, a one inch line, above his right eyebrow, it would fade in time, though he doubted that it would truly leave. His arm was now healed, and so were his ribs, the bruising around his eye that had swollen up was gone as well. He now looked as he used to, except for the new scar, but that didn't bother him.

"I will, thank you," she said as she and her son left the room. John stood up from where he had been sat and stretched, it had been a long day and he had things he wanted to do today. Since he and Sherlock were going on a date, Sherlock had wanted to take him over a week ago, when he had first arrived home from the hospital after being mugged. He hadn't wanted to go out as he had felt to battered and bruised.

John went over to the coat stand in his office and picked up black jacket and put it on, he walked out of his office and into the main reception room. He could see that there were no more patients left for anyone to see and he smiled at that, it meant that he wouldn't be asked to remain a while longer. He went over to Mary, the receptionist, and handed over his files and said a quick goodbye to her, when he heard someone come up behind him, the soft click, click, click of heals on the uncarpeted floor.

John turned around and smiled when he saw Sarah was walking towards him, even thought they had broken up over two almost three months ago, they were still friends, "Hey," he smiled in greeting, wondering if he looked just as tired, though he knew that she worked the whole week instead of the few days a week he did it.

"Evening John," she smiled to him, as she handed over her own files to the receptionist to put away.

"How has your day been?" he asks her politely as he glanced to his watch.

"Tiring, but you know all about that," she smiled in answer as she looked him over and said, "you look really happy today."

He grined thinking about Sherlock, and whatever he had planed, "I am. Got something planned for tonight," he said with a smile as his phone beeped.

 **Make sure not to linger at the Clinic John, have bookings to keep, also no detours home, make sure you are careful -** SH - 5:07pm

"Well, by the looks of it, those plans will have to keep," she smiled good naturedly, as she added, "Another case?" a little curious as to what they did on their cases, she enjoyed listening about them, and not taking part in one.

John shakes his head, "No, not a case, Sherlock being Sherlock and wanting to make sure I get straight home and to be careful."

Sarah frowns, "that's a little strange, a flatmate doing such a thing."

"Not really, after the mugging, he is making sure to keep tabs on me and that I am where I should be," John tells her, a soft smile, that had been the fifteenth text from Sherlock since he left that morning. It was less than what he had sent to him yesterday, but still a lot. He hadn't told Sarah yet about him and Sherlock going on an actual date. He knew she would be fine with it. She actually liked Sherlock, even when he had done his usual and deduced her.

"If you say so, I don't know how you will be when you go out tonight, hope he doesn't text to interrupt it." She laughed a little, that was how most of their dates went, Sherlock would text and John would be off, with an apology on his lips as he rushed away. Not that she minded. She thought the two of them were good friends. She could tell that there was something more between them, if they ever bothered to look beyond the friendship they had.

"Nothing to worry about for tonight," he smiled as he then sent a text back to Sherlock.

 **Don't worry, I'm fine and will be leaving the clinic in a moment, see you soon -** JW 5:10pm

"If you say so," she said, with a smile on her lips as she got the subtle hint with those words..

"I do, well night and I'll see you tomorrow morning." John nodded to her.

Sarah smiled, "Good night John," she told him as she watched him walk away, "And good luck on your date with Sherlock," she chuckled softly, so he couldn't hear her. He would say something when he was ready to.

John left the clinic and went to the tube station and this time didn't get off for the one that stopped nearest to Tesco, but the one closest to Baker Street. He walked towards home and smiled to himself, he didn't know what Sherlock had planned for them that night, he had just smirked and said it was a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the awesome comments and the kudos, you guys are the best. Hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well as all the rest!


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Sorry for not updating for awhile, been going through a bit of a rough time recently. Things are now beginning to pick up and I am getting back into the swing of things.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter 31**

John reached the front door of 221B Baker Street and let himself in, he took the stairs two at a time, a little excited about the night ahead. He walked into the front room of the flat and saw Sherlock dressed and ready to go. He smiled over to John as he walked in.

"I've put a suit out for you on our bed, go shower and change into it," he smiled softly as John walked over and Sherlock leaned down to kiss him hello.

"What have you got planned for us tonight?" John asked as he went to the bathroom.

"That my dear John is a surprise," he smirked as he looked to the kitchen, a part of him tempted to start off another experiment before he left. He knew that John would be fine with it, but he refrained, wanting the night to be just about John and him.

John called out from the bathroom as the water started up, "all right."

Sherlock smiled as he went and stood by the window, he looked to his desk and picked up his violin, playing a few notes after he had tuned it. He could hear John in the shower and then in what was once his room, but had quickly turned into their room. Neither of them liked the thought of sleeping apart after that first night of sleeping in the same bed, they hadn't done anything else, since neither of them felt ready for that last step, but they both slept better together, even if Sherlock was awake on the bed reading most of the night, he always went up with John, and waited until the other would fall asleep, before either reading, or getting up and putting around the flat.

"Well, I feel odd," John said as he walked out in the light grey suit, a baby blue shirt and grey tie.

"You look wonderful," Sherlock said as he put down his violin and walked over to him, wrapping arms around each other as they leaned in for a kiss, "While I wouldn't mind just staying in with you, I did promise that as soon as you were well, we would go out, so we have a table booked and somewhere else to be a little later tonight," he smiled cryptically as the two let go of each other.

John nodded his head, still a little in awe of the fact that he and Sherlock were now dating, "Okay, I suppose we should head out then?" he queried as he glanced up.

The Consulting Detective nodded his head as the two of them left the flat, saying bye to Mrs Hudson as she was in the hallway.

"Have fun boys!" She called to them as she smiled, happily.

Sherlock smiled to her and nodded, "We will."

"See you later Mrs Hudson," John said with a gentle smile on his face as the two walked out into the cool air.

Sherlock waved his hand up for a taxi and they were soon on their way, John had heard of the restaurant that Sherlock had picked for them, and knew that it was a hard one to get into, since it had a waiting list, and a number of celebrities often dined there. The ex army doctor wondered if someone owed him a favour at this pace as well, just like Angelo, and half the restaurants in London seemed to.

"I helped the owner before he started the restaurant, never had the chance to dine there yet. So when she heard I had called about a table, she called back and said she would make sure it was the best." Sherlock grinned to him as he looked over.

"Oh," John nodded and then chuckled, "it does seem like half of London owe you something."

"It does, since it's the places I normally take you to, I actually didn't know Sandra owned The Palace, I had been told there was a two week waiting list, and since it would be at least a week for me to get you to agree to go out because of your injuries, I wasn't that bothered by it. It was only when she called me to tell me personally that she had booked a table for me and my partner that I made the connection to her, though I did get her to set the booking back a week, till today, she told me to always call her first if I wanted a table there," he told him, not telling him how he had helped Sandra out.

"Can you tell me what you did to help her at all?" John asked him, a little curious.

Sherlock smiled to him, "Of course, her husband had been murdered and the police were all gunning for her. I was able to get the police to see that it wasn't her, but actually her husbands secretary, who he had been having an affair with. He wouldn't leave Sandra, so she killed him. A rather boring case I admit, but it was around five years ago that I helped out with it, almost deleted it to be honest with you."

John chuckled as the taxi pulled up outside the restaurant. Sherlock got out first, holding a hand out for John, who smiled and took it. Together the two walked in and were soon seated at their table. Looking out at the skyline of London from the top floor. John looked out and then over to Sherlock and smiled.

"Thanks for this, I think after the last two weeks I've had, it's nice for something a little more relaxing," John smiled as he looked to him.

Sherlock reached a hand over, and linked up with John's, "I know, it has been a bad time for you, first the flu, and then the attack," he said with a shake of his head, dark curls dropping into one eye.

A waitress came over and the two of them ordered quickly, each knowing what they enjoyed, it was a Greek restaurant, and John knew that it was a little sweet, since it was a reminder of the day that the two first kissed. The waitress walked away as they carried on talking for a little while, waiting for their meal to come. It came almost twenty minutes later and was set down on the table. The two smiled as they began to eat.

"I believe Lestrade is dating someone," Sherlock said as they began to talk about the Yard and the lack of cases that were coming to them.

"How do you figure that out?" John asked, wondering if he had missed something.

"He seems happier, I met him yesterday to go over a few cold cases with him, he was practically bouncing, there was a smile on his face that I haven't seen since his ex wife left him three years ago. So dating, I think it has only just started within the last week," Sherlock said as he thought a little about Greg and how he had been acting the last time he had seen him.

John smiled, "Well that's good then, didn't know he had an ex wife though," he said as he then added, "Do you have a clue as to who it could be?"

Sherlock hummed a second before he answered, "Well I know that it isn't anyone at the Yard, so that leaves a few more possibilities, Molly for one, though when I saw her, she didn't look happy, I think she was still trying to get over the fact that Moriarty had fooled her."

"I think we need to talk to her about that a little, I think that it might stop her from dating for a long time if we don't. I know that someone asked her out recently, about three weeks ago. She shot him down quickly, and was even a little panicky about it afterwards. Had to calm her down," John said as he thought of the young woman.

"I think I will leave that to you, since you know emotions better than most," he said softly as they ate their meal.

John nodded and the two went silent for a while, each of them thinking about who Greg could be seeing and a way to help Molly. John looked up to him and said, "I'll try and talk to Molly as soon as I see her, I know that there is an officer at the yard that is thinking about asking her out, I over heard him mentioned it."

"You mean Officer Harrison?" he said wanting clarification from John.

The doctor nodded, "Yeah, he met Molly on a case about a month back, he goes over there a lot to see her and talk to her, and not just about work. I think he is smitten with her," he grinned at the thought of playing matchmaker.

Sherlock nodded, "Yes, he would be good for Molly, he is stable, unlike Moriarty, he has a nice personality that would match Molly's quite well."

John smiled as he nodded, "Yeah, that's what I thought, so if I talk to her soon, I might be able to do it before he asks her and gets shot down. Anything planned for you for the rest of the week, I've got two more days at the Clinic before I'm off for two days?" he then asked.

"I was thinking about going to ask Lestrade for a few more Cold Case, while they aren't as interesting as a fresh case, they still keep the mind sharp. I've helped him get around fourteen off his desk over the last week, and I know he doesn't mind getting more of them put away," he answered with a soft smile.

"I know, I can see why he wants the cold cases solved," John nodded, a smile of his own on his face.

"Yes, he feels that they are an affront to his profession and a failure on his part, though I think if he truly observed instead of just looking he would be able to solve them as I do," Sherlock said confidently, "I know he would let me bring a few back to the flat, you could help me with them if you wish," he then added softly.

John shook his head slightly as he swallowed a bite and then said, "Well, I don't know if I would be able to help you at all, I just don't see the things that you do."

"Actually, when you helped Lestrade and I the night he stayed for dinner, you were able to give him the just cause that he needed to get one of the warrants, with just a little of your medical knowledge." He said, smiling.

"That must have been a fluke," John shook his head, "I just knew something about the medication that was all."

"Yes, and the main ingredient of it is what killed the man, with that you were able to give Lestrade what he needed to get a warrant to search the home and find the last piece of evidence needed to show that it was the wife that killed him," he said with a shake of his head, he couldn't understand why John always said that he wasn't good, he did see things, he knew things that others didn't. It frustrated the Consulting Detective over and over again when John would often play down what he could see and observe.

"That was one Sherlock, I don't help otherwise," he said with a sigh and a shake of his head.

Sherlock chuckled, "You do more than you think. Sometimes you ask me question about how I got to a particulate point in my deduction, making me think of other things, and nearly all the time it helps me figure things out a lot quicker than what I would have done on my own."

"If you say so," he said with a smile as he they finished their meal.

It didn't take long for the waitress to come over and take their order for desert, a few minutes later it was placed in front of them and the two smiled as they ate. Talking softly, with John questioning what they would be doing next. He knew that Sherlock had something planned, but not what, since the other wanted to be a litlte mysterious. They finished their meal and Sherlock paid, though John protested that.

"It was my choice to take you out and therefore it is my treat," Sherlock told him as they walked hand in hand out of the restaurant.

"I can still pay you know," John mumbled a little put out.

Sherlock chuckled, "I know you can, but as I said, this is my treat," he said as he pulled John forwards a little so they were facing each other, he leaned down and kissed him softly, "and I do enjoy treating you," he smiled softly as they broke apart.

John sighed, "I know, but on occasions I would like to do the same."

Sherlock kissed him again and smiled, "We'll see."

"Sherlock?" John questioned with narrow eyes as the other smirked and called a cab.

Sherlock quietly told the driver where to go and got in with John.

The two sat quietly, holding hands as they looked to one another and then out of the window. It didn't take them long to get to the Symphony Hall. John shot the other a questioning look, as to why they were there.

"I know you enjoy listening to me play my violin, and I thought maybe you would like to hear a little more, the orchestra playing is one of the best in the world, and I for one love listening to them, I hope you do as well," he said an almost shy look upon his face.

"I know I will," he smiled.

The two walked in and went to their seats, half hour later the concert started, each of them leaning against the other as they let the harmonious sounds of the orchestra wash over them. Each had a smile on their faces as they listened. John had to admit that it was wonderful listening to them, but to him nothing compared to when Sherlock played, he could listen to Sherlock for hours and never get tired of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter 32**

Sherlock unlocked the front door and the two men walked into Baker Street. It had been a wonderful five hours since they had left. Quietly they ascended the stairs to their flat, not wishing to disturb Mrs Hudson, in case she was asleep. Both of them were tired, but extremely happy with how their first date had gone. John walked into the kitchen and set two mugs up and put the kettle on for some tea. While the water boiled the two went to their bedrooms to change into something a little more comfortable.

John pulled an old and worn t-shirt over his head as he began to mull over things. John wanted to take Sherlock out on a date, but he had little idea of what he could do. He gave a little sigh, deciding he would have to think it over for a little while longer. John walked out of his bedroom and down the stairs; he smiled as he heard Sherlock finishing off the tea.

"Thank you," John smiled to him as they went over to the sofa and sat down.

"Sherlock nodded as he sat down next to John and grinned as John leaned against him. They curled up next to each other, fitting together like they did with no one else, "You're welcome, always."

John gave a little chuckled as he took a sip of his tea, "Tonight was wonderful Sherlock, thank you," he said softly, leaning against Sherlock a little more. Sherlock wrapped an arm around him. John smiled and closed his eyes; he could hear the comforting sound of Sherlock's heart beat under his ear.

"That it was. I had hoped you would enjoy it," he hummed taking a sip of his own tea as his hand rubbed John's back.

"I did, the Orchestra was brilliant," he admitted, "Though I have to say, I still prefer listening to you play," he smiled as he drank his tea and closed his eyes again. The silence of the night was soothing after a hard day.

Sherlock ran a hand through the short blond hair as he spoke softly, "I know you do, how about I play for you when you finish work tomorrow?" he suggested.

John smiled, opening his eyes and looked up at Sherlock, "That would be wonderful. If tomorrow is anything like today then it would be welcomed," he told him.

Sherlock frowned a little as he asked, "What happened?"

John smiled a little, "Nothing too bad, it was just very busy. It felt like half of London decided to come to our clinic instead of their own," he answered him.

Sherlock nodded as he rubbed John's back again, "All right," he paused for a moment before adding, "If you were so tired you should have said something, we could have postponed out date," he told him.

The blond shook his head, "Thinking about our date got me though that shift. It was wonderful," he chuckled lightly.

"If you say so," he murmured softly.

"I do," he told him as he put his empty mug on the coffee table, along with Sherlock's before curling against him once more, "So what did you do all day while I was treating half of London for coughs and colds?" he asked him, a smile on his face.

"Nothing much, I solved one of Lestrade's cold cases that he brought by this afternoon. The sister in law killed her. Didn't like the woman her brother had married, said he could do better," he answered softly before adding, "There were a couple of emails that came though, very easy cases, didn't even have to leave the flat," he finished.

John chuckled dryly, "Hopefully a case will come in that you can really have a good puzzle over," he told him.

Sherlock nodded in agreement, "Yes it would be most helpful as I am beginning to get a little bored."

"As always," he said as he yawned, "Sorry."

"Do not worry John," he smiled as he too gave a small yawn.

"I know it's only eleven, but I am about ready to drop," he said softly.

"It must be because you treated half of London today," he joked lightly.

John gave a tired laugh, "Maybe," he smiled.

Sherlock looked down at him and said softly, "Then let us head to bed."

John nodded in agreement as the two of them got up. Sherlock dragged him into his bedroom, where John had slept the night before. The two curled up together under the thick quilt. Their eyes closed, soft smiles on their faces as their breathing evened out as they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Sorry for not updating, I've been rather ill over the last two, almost three weeks. Now its Camp Nano and I am taking part once more. Writing Four fics this time. The Harsh Reality Sequel, A HP/S xover, and two Sherlock Fics. I am hoping to be able to update a few of the fics during April, but no promises on all of them.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

John clenched his left hand as it began to shake; he was walking up from the tube station to 221B Baker Street. All he could think about was what had happened at the clinic earlier that day. He had seen the things that people could do to one another, but sometimes, even he felt overwhelmed by what he occasionally came across in the clinic. But this was the first time since he had finished his residency. It had been a hard day for him, he placed his clenched fist in his pocket as with his right he pulled out his keys and opened the door to his home.

He slowly walked up the stairs. All the good feeling he had gone to work with after last nights date, were now gone, faded away as though they had never been there. He slowly opened the door to the flat and took off his jacket, hanging it up. He walked into the room and just stood there for a moment, not wanting to do anything. He had no energy and no wish to do anything more.

"John?" came the questioning voice of his partner as he heard the soft foot falls as he came from the kitchen.

John didn't more, all he said was a simple, "hey."

Sherlock moved in front of him and looked at John, he could see that there was a weariness around him, and by the fact that he was two hours late from work also told him that he had a hard day at the Clinic. He frowned a little at the higher concentration of antiseptic that was lingering around the other, that meant that he had been to the hospital as well as the clinic, and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened this time. John had only ever been to the hospital when there had been a large pile up and they needed extra staff at the hospital, and he had gone straight from the clinic.

"What happened, I know that you have been to the hospital instead of just the clinic," he said as he moved forwards and held John against him, wrapping his arms around the other.

John slowly wrapped his arms around Sherlock, enjoying the feeling of comfort and warmth he was getting. He winced a little as he felt the slight tremor in his left hand as it gripped the back of Sherlock's shirt, "just a really bad day," he sighed, not knowing if he wanted to go into it, but he then thought better of it. Sherlock would want to know, he always did.

"What to tell me what happened?" he asked softly as he held him close, rubbing a hand up and down John's back, he could feel the tension that was still there, even though it had lessoned a little since he held his partner.

John looked up and said softly, "sure, after lunch, a little boy came in, he is six years old, dad dead from what I gathered from him later. He came in with a badly busied arm," he started to explain softly, Sherlock could already guess where it was going, but didn't stop John as he spoke, knowing that the shorter man would need to get it out, "He was frightened, so scared of being there. His mother was with him," he paused for a moment as he remembered the look on the woman's face as she got the little child to sit down, "she practically dragged him into my room, I looked at him, and he had so many bruises, more than what a normal kid would have if they played rough. A number of them looked like large handprints, and even a boot mark on his back. I got in contact with social services while I had the kid x-rayed, his arm looked broken to me, and I could see he was in a lot of pain with it but was trying to hide it."

"What happened next?" Sherlock prompted when he saw that John wouldn't say anything more for a moment, too lost in what he had witnessed.

"Social Services came and wanted to talk to the kid away from the mother. I was in the room beginning. She started screaming as soon as she saw the social workers come into the room. She went for her son, and I do mean went for him, I was able to block to blow and push her back, and the kid, he was shaking so badly, I picked him up, he barely weighed anything. God Sherlock, I could feel his bones. We had to call the cops in the end, she became extremely violent in trying to get to her son, she kept saying how she finally had enough and she would kill him. The poor kid was so scared, he was in tears, he clung to me and wouldn't let me go. I had tried to get him to go with Tony, the other doctor there, but he wouldn't. I took him to the staff room, to get him to calm down, the cops came quickly and took her away. I got a proper look at him, he needed to go to the hospital, but as soon as they tried to take him away from me he started screaming and crying. So I went with him," he carried on, barely pausing, "His arm had been broken, he had a badly twisted knee, bruised ribs, dehydrated, starved, bruises and even lash marks on his back, someone had whipped him with a belt. I still can't believe what one person would do to another, especially a child like that," he said softly, his voice barely audible.

"So you went with him to the hospital, what are they going to do with him?" Sherlock asked softly, wondering what the social workers had in store for the traumatised child.

"He'll be taken to a foster family that deal with severe abuse cases, they ended up having to sedate him at the hospital," he said sadly as Sherlock began to guide him over to the sofa and made him sit down.

"And you wish to go and see him to make sure that he will be all right?" Sherlock guessed.

John gave him a small smile and nodded, "Yeah, I would like to know how he is doing, I've only seen an abuse case once before, when I was doing my residency at St Bart's. And it's not something that you forget to be honest. I can still remember the girl from them, she was older than this one, but it was just as bad."

"Then make sure to call up and see what is going on, and if he will still be in the hospital," he said as he looked down to the man on the sofa.

"Well Kerien is going to be in the hospital for a while until he has gained some weight, so around two weeks by what the paediatrician Jenny told me," he said as he looked up and gave a small, trembling smile.

"Tea?" he then asked as he straightened up.

"Would be lovely, thank you," he sighed softly as he leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes. It was days like this that left him feeling tired and exhausted. He could hear Sherlock moving around in the kitchen as he made them both some tea.

It didn't take long for Sherlock to come back with a mug of hot tea for John, he set it down as John opened blue eyes and smiled. "Relax for a while," he said softly as he moved away.

John nodded, "Thanks," as he leaned forwards and grabbed his mug and held it, letting the heat from it warm him up. He moved his left hand away as it began to tremble a little, annoyed that he was shaking again.

Sherlock watched him for a moment as he went over to the desk and picked up his violin, he started to play something hopeful, trying to life John's spirits. He could tell that it had worked as John began to smile. He drank his tea and lay back on the sofa, letting the soothing tones ease his mind. Sherlock watched intently as he saw John begin to relax on the sofa, he smiled as he saw the other fall asleep. A few moments later Sherlock stopped playing and went into the kitchen and began to work on one of his experiments as he kept an ear out for John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Well Camp is over, and three out of four fics are finished, only three chapters to do for the other one. Two Sherlock fics, one Sherlock/Harry Potter crossover and Harsh Reality Sequel, just have to get someone to read through for plot holes.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter 34**

Sherlock frowned and stopped reading as he heard John moving around restlessly on the sofa. He could hear quiet murmurings coming from him. Sherlock got up just in time to see John sit up sharply, gasping out a half strangled "No," as he looked around the room, eyes wide and not really seeing anything around him. Sherlock moved quickly over to the other and sat down on the coffee table, waiting for John to recognise where he was. It wasn't a good idea to touch him after a dream, as his nose had found out the only time he had done so, not long after John had moved to Baker Street.

John looked around frantically as he took the sight of Sherlock in, his shoulders sagged in relief as he realised that he was at home, he was no longer in Afghanistan under the hot sun. He flopped back on the sofa and placed an arm over his eyes as he tried to even out his rapid breathing. Trying to calm himself down from the after effects of remembering the day he had been shot.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked after a while, concern lacing his voice.

John moved his arm and looked over as he nodded slightly, "Yeah, happens sometimes, as you know," he told the other, knowing that Sherlock was dying to ask how he had ended up coming back home, it was one of the things that John had never talked about, but then he rarely talked about his time in the army.

"What to talk about it?" he asked, as he then added, "you are always saying that sometimes it's best to talk about your dreams," he looked to the other, wondering if he would say anything.

John nodded a little as he sat up. He knew that it would be a good idea to tell him now while it was fresh in his mind. He had been meaning to tell Sherlock for a while. as he sat up, Sherlock moved from his perch on the coffee table and sat behind him, they reshuffled themselves a little until John was settled against Sherlock's chest, between his legs. Sherlock had his arms wrapped around his waist, with John lacing their fingers together. The consulting detective breathed in John's scent as he waited for the other to start talking, knowing that he was gathering himself for it.

"It was a normal patrol, I wasn't just a doctor out there I was a combat solider, so I was on the front lines a lot. Our patrol was ambushed, pinned down by heavy fire. We were firing back, and was able to get most of the snipers. Two of my men went down, and I stopped firing to go over to them and help. Started working on one of them, Samson, nothing to serious, then I worked on the other one, Pierce. I finished doing what I could for them. Still under fire I got Pierce out of the way, to some cover, and the started to get Samson to safety, I felt pain exploding in my shoulder. I ignored it for a bit, got Samson to safety and picked up my gun and returned fire, losing a lot of blood at that point. I passed out after a while longer. It hit me in such a way that it messed up with the nerves in my shoulder, I ended up with malaria and a high fever. Don't remember around a month after getting shot, and when I did start paying attention I was back in England, with a medical discharge," he finished explaining, not going into too much detail.

"Well, I am glad of what happened for one thing, it brought you to me and I can't help but be happy with that," Sherlock said softly as he turned John's head towards him and kissed him gently.

"I think that's the only thing about it I like," John smiled back, he didn't like the fact that the nerve damage had been bad enough that he would never be able to do surgery again, it was something that he missed and that he had trained extremely hard for. Two careers had been ended by a single bullet.

Sherlock smiled as he settled John against him again and turned the TV on for some mindless drivel. He smiled as he felt John relax against him. The two were silent, just enjoying the feel of each other, and being thankful to things that were out of their control that brought the two of them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Sorry for not updating last week, I've been ill once again with another cold and chest infection. My fifth cold for this year and my third chest infection.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter 35**

It was two in the morning when Sherlock's phone began to ring. Sherlock was already awake, since he had only needed a little sleep. He picked up the phone, seeing that it was Lestrade that was calling him. John started to move around at the noise as it woke him from his sleep. Blue eyes opened as Sherlock answered the phone.

"What is it Lestrade?" Sherlock asked, as he got a curious look from John.

"We need you," Lestrade said, his voice strong, "I took over Smithsons case officially yesterday, but I got a call almost an hour ago, and then another one. We've got two bodies, two women twenty minutes apart."

"Where are you?" Sherlock then asked and quickly got an answer for, "right, we'll meet you in about twenty minutes," he said as he got out of bed and hung up the call.

"What is it?" John asked as he got out of bed and started to get ready, knowing with the way Sherlock was acting that there had been a murder.

"Two bodies, twenty minutes away from each other, he has taken over the investigation of the three women," he answered John as he finished dressing, waiting for John as he did the same. They grab their coats and head out of the door, Sherlock calling for a taxi and heading towards where Lestrade was waiting for them.

The two were silent as they were taken to where Lestrade and his team were waiting for him. Though John knew that two of them wouldn't want them to be there at all. Sherlock stepped out of the cab first as John paid and then followed him. At the tape Donovan stopped them and sneered.

"Once again we have the freak show turn up," she told them both as she gave them a churlish look.

"And once again Sally you prove to everyone that you're ignorant," Sherlock said as he ducked under the tape and walked past her, ignoring her sputtering as he went.

John smirked and shook his head, "He is right you know, you act so ignorant when ever he shows up, that sometimes I can help but think if you are a good cop or not," he snipped a litlte as he then followed Sherlock, leaving Donovan to gape after him as they headed over to Lestrade.

"Lestrade," Sherlock nodded his head to the other as he was standing near the body.

"Sherlock, John," he smiled a little grimly at them as he then added, "sorry to call you out at this time, but I thought it would be a good idea to get you on scene as soon as, instead of later on," he apologised to them both, he could see that John was still a little tired by the cut off yawning he was doing. Sherlock he could see was wide-awake.

"Good thing you did, as most of the evidence would be trampled on by the time I was able to get here if you called later on," Sherlock said as he grabbed some gloves and moved passed Lestrade and over to the body, he knelt down and started to look her over, noting all he could about the victim, "John," he called almost fifteen minutes later.

"Yes," he answered as he took a step closer, it was always a good idea to let Sherlock do his work without someone hanging around his shoulders.

"Come and tell me what you can about the body, and about what was done," Sherlock said as he soot up and got out of the way so that John could go over it.

The doctor moved forwards and knelt down a little, the woman was warmly dressed, a silk handkerchief was about her throat, but it didn't look as though it belong there at all, "I don't think the hankie belonged to her at all," he said as he moved it aside a little bit, "Straight cut, violent, some jaggedness about the one side," he added as he looked at the only injury that could be seen, "The one who did this did so with glee that he was a little too eager, I would say right handed and taller than the Vic, there is a slight upward tilt to the wound. He came up behind, there is slight bruising around the nose and mouth. He was rushed towards the end of the cut. He was interrupted," he said as he stood up, looking to Sherlock, wondering what he thought of it all.

Sherlock grinned, "yes," his steel grey eyes were alight as he added "Definitely taller, I would say that this is not the first time he has killed like this, but it is something he had done a number of times over the years. You would do good to look into more unexplained deaths like this. It screams ex military the way he came up, and killed her without a single sound from her. Look around, there are a number of people already peeping out of their windows, if they had heard something they would have looked out. Little old ladies, have to love them," he smiled as he looked around at the number of curtains that had been pulled aside a little to show that people were looking out at the crime scene.

"We'll get a few people to talk to them all," Lestrade said as he made a quick note, "is there anything else that you can tell us?" he then asked as he looked to the man before him.

"I need to look at the other one to get what I need," Sherlock said, not saying anything as he looked to the Inspector.

Lestrade sighed as he nodded his head, "Donovan," he called out as the sergeant came over to him, "get the forensics and get started," he told her as he then added, "I'll be going over to the other scene."

"Is the fr…" she started to say but stopped when Lestrade gave her a look.

"I will report you if you continue Donavan," he said as he walked away, Sherlock and John following him, the two wondered what that was about, though Sherlock quickly figured it.

"You should just leave it, they haven't changed in the six years that I have knows them, especially her," Sherlock said as he walked beside Lestrade.

Lestrade looked to him and said, "It's unprofessional, and at one point its going to get so bad that you wont wish to work with us any more, and I for one don't want that to happen. You're brilliant at what you do Sherlock, and I know that more than half the cases that I do are only solved because you help, Hell most of them I believe."

Sherlock looked to him at the unexpected praise and said, "I help because I wish to, I don't care what she says I will always help, no matter what. I do know one thing Lestrade," he paused a moment until the detective inspector was looking at him, "you are good at your job, and I know that you would have solved them eventually, you do have a good mind, you just don't use it like you should," he told him as they walked on.

John smiled at Sherlock and chuckled, "never thought I would hear the day you would say something like that."

"It is true, Greg has one of the better minds on the force, he sees but doesn't observe a lot of the time, and I wish he would do so," he says softly as the three walk the twenty minutes to the other scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Chest infection gone, only a small cough left now, but on Monday, I had a bit of a fall and have now twisted my ankle, its been one of those weeks, lols.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter 36**

They arrived at the crime scene only to see Anderson waiting for them. Someone had obviously informed him that the two men were coming with Lestrade to the scene. It didn't take a genius to guess that it would have been Sally. The Forensic Scientist said nothing to them as they walked closer, the only thing he did was sneer at them and then turned his attention back to his boss.

"Nothing has been touched or moved," he said as he looked to his boss, he didn't look to Sherlock and John again, avoiding their gaze.

"Good," Lestrade said as he and the other two moved closer to the body, "be warned it's bad," he told them as the each took a pair of gloves.

Bad was an understatement, the woman was on her back, her arms beside her body. The palms up, fingers slightly curled. There was a thimble, an antic thimble from what Sherlock observed, was slightly on the pinkie finger on the left hand. The woman was naked from the waist down, but the blouse she had been wearing was torn open, bra cut in the middle. The face had been mutilated, the nose almost fully gone. The blood from the slice on her throat had soaked the once white handkerchief that now covered it up. The sight of the woman's intestines pulled out of her stomach and over her right shoulder had made some of the local PC's heave and throw up away from the scene. Only Lestrade, Sherlock and John were still around the body. The right ear had almost been cut off.

Sherlock moved around the body and looked at each injury, he stood up and then looked to John as he then asked, "What do you think?"

John nodded and knelt down, careful of all the blood that had pooled on the floor, he gentle touched the body and could still feel the slight warmth of it, "she hasn't been dead long, I would even go as far to say as within an hour, maybe a hour and a half at most," he said as he carried on looking around. He looked in the large cavity that had been left behind thanks to the intestines being taken, "I think something was taken from her," he added as he noticed that something wasn't quiet right about the abdomen, "The injuries that she had were all done after she was already dead, most of the blood is from the wound on her neck, there is little blood from the others," he added.

"Would you say someone with medical experience did this?" Sherlock then asked as he looked around the scene, looking for something that stood out.

"No, no true experience when it came to people there are a number of mistakes, but I would say that who did this knew basics but that would be about it, and maybe someone pointing out where things were, but no true medical experience." He answered as he looked at the cuts that had been made, "they were vicious, but there is slight bruising around the nose and mouth again, but I would say that the death would be the same as the other victims," he added as he looked up to Sherlock and stood up, wondering what the other had come up with as he watched the other move around the scene.

"The man you want is tall, 6 foot 2 inches, I would say ex military, the boots that he wore have left prints, the victims he selected are his targets. But there is something more, something that I am missing from this. There is someone else, a second person that was here, that came after the initial attack, he said as he showed Lestrade the second set of prints. The first scene, there was only the one, it was interrupted, as he cut the throat someone turned up, made some noise, he left, but…" he said as he paused.

"Then would the body have been found sooner?" John asked.

"Oh stupid, stupid," Sherlock chuckled, "of course, the first victim was planned that way, she was to die yes, but not to this extent, it was the way the scene was planed, don't you see?" he asked them as he looked to the two of them.

"See what?" Lestrade asked him.

"Jack the ripper, he is taking off Jack the Ripper and has got someone else to help him," he said, excitement lacing his voice as he almost shouted out what he has deduced.

"And the other women?" Lestrade asked.

"All the same killer, I need all the pictures, and data that you have on them and please make sure to give it to me as soon as possible. I need to go thought it." He said as he looked to the inspector.

"I'll bring it by in the morning, if you can wait that long, I don't want you running off somewhere and getting hurt." Lestrade said as he looked to the two of them, he knew that they got into a number of scrapes while investigating on a case.

"We will go back home, but make sure to bring it all over earlier morning, I will also be visiting Molly at the morgue to see the bodies myself. If it follows more popular Ripper myth then the second victim will have her left kidney removed." Sherlock told him.

"All right, I'll bring it all by in the morning, I'll be heading in now anyway." Lestrade nodded in agreement.

"See you later on the Greg," John nodded to him a small smile on his face. He hoped he would be able to go back home and sleep.

Sherlock and John left the scene and headed back to the flat. Sherlock let John go back to bed, telling him he should get some sleep while he could. Sherlock was on John's laptop and searching all he could about the Ripper, and looking over the books he had gathered over the yeas. He wanted to make sure he remembered enough about the murders to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Well, I have finally got back into the swing of things, don't know how long that will last. I've started plotting for Camp NaNo already, and I have Eight plots that I could write. One James Bond, One James Bond/Sherlock, Four Sherlock, and Two Star Trek 2009 fics. Way too many I know, but I love them all.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter 37**

John yawned as he slowly ate his toast and jam, a hot mug of tea sitting in front of him at the table. He had been able to get a little more sleep, though he had dreams of the poor women that had been killed during the night. He stood up at he ate the last of his toast, taking his tea into the living room with him. Sherlock was lying on the sofa, thinking through all the data that he had researched during the night as well as what he had got from the bodies when they had gone to the crime scene.

"I hope Greg was able to get a little sleep," John said softly as Sherlock sat up on the sofa and swung his legs over the edge to look at the doctor as he took a seat on his chair.

"I don't think he would have. He has a tendency to remain at the office at all hours to trying and follow all the leads that came up during the initial investigation, he most likely wont sleep until later on tonight, if at all. Then again, he may end up sleeping in his office. He has done that a few times in the past," he answered the query.

John frowned at the words, "need to make sure he is taking care of himself."

"Agreed, he will do no good if he is not taking care of himself," he nodded as he looked over to him, "Popular Ripper myth is that there is one more murder after the double event, and all the dates of the killing match the ones that had already happened, so it would follow that this kill will strike someone on the 9th November, which is over a month away," he then said as he thought through the information.

"Will we be able to figure out who it is before hand do you think?" John asked him softly, hoping that they would, he remembered a little of the ripper killings and knew that they had their work cut out since the original had never been caught.

"There are certain murders that happened during this time, and some of them have been attributed to the Ripper killer, but there had been no proof of that. So I don't know if we can count them at all," Sherlock said as he thought of what they could do next.

"Have you been able to see the victim type at all?" John then asked him, taking a sip of tea.

Sherlock smirked as he said, "Brilliant John."

John frowned and said, "What?"

"The victims, the names, they are all names for the ripper killers, the last names don't match, but the first names do. Each time. We need to find Mary Kelly's, all of them in the area, and as soon as I confirm something we will be able to narrow it down even more, there is also something that I wish to confirm with all the bodies," he added as he went through the crime scenes in his mind.

"What do you think you are going to see?" he then asked him, wondering what it was that the other could see that he once again couldn't.

"I have a belief that the victims had been taken before hand, there are no missing reports, but so far no one has come forwards in telling where they had been in the hours leading up to their deaths. I believe that they were taken, and I just need to look at the bodies and the autopsy reports for the other victims, it shouldn't be hard to figure out." Sherlock answered as he smiled to him.

"All right," John nodded as he heard footsteps come up the stairs. He turned to the door and smiled when he saw Greg come through.

The Detective Inspector was still in the same clothes that he had been in when they had last seen him a good few hours ago. He looked tired, and it was easy to see that he had done nothing but look through reports and get up to date on the case he had been given, "Hey," he said, his voice said it all to the two men, it was tired and thin, worn down even.

John got up as he said, "Tea?"

"Oh," Greg looked a little startled as he looked over to John and nodded, "yeah, that would be good, or coffee would be even better," he smiled a little as he took a place on the other chair in the room.

"Coffee it is, though by the looks of it you need to sleep, and I'll do you some toast as well." John said as he walked into the kitchen to begin.

"Do you have the files I asked for?" Sherlock said as he looked over to him.

Greg nodded and handed them over, "this is everything that we've got so far, not much to be honest, people haven't seen them around for at least a week or two before there deaths, sometimes longer. We're tracking down the families for the latest two victims, not going well. It's like no one will miss them at all," he told them as he shook his head and watched Sherlock go through the information that he had just handed over.

Sherlock looked through it, noting that he was right and that the women were all prostitutes and that they had little in the way of family, but they had also not talked to family in a while, except to say that they would be away for a few weeks and not to worry. One family has said that it had been odd and that they wouldn't normally hear from their daughter for months at a time, and that was only when she wanted to see her son, would she do so. Sherlock quickly got lost in the new information he had been given, putting the extra piece away into the puzzle that he had created in his mind for this case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Well, when September arrives I will be posting four new fics. Two of my chosing, and two of yours, all you have to do is to go to my profile and use the poll, chose two out of the list.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

John walked back in a few minutes after he had left Sherlock looking over the files, with some tea and toast for Greg, he handed it over and watched as he quickly ate and started to drink his tea. All the time he was eating he was watching Sherlock as he muttered and mumbled to himself. John looked over and took up the autopsy reports and started to go through them, wondring if he would be able to help.

"They had been drugged for a while, a mild sedative," John said as he looked to the toxicology report first, he then read over the rest of it, noting that the injuries were the same as to what had happened to the Ripper victim over one hundred years ago.

"Yes, it confirms my belief that they had all been taken before they had been killed. They would have been kept alive for a while, until the right date, there is a chance that the Mary Kelly that we are after has already been taken by this man," Sherlock said as he glanced over from the report he was reading.

"Xerophagy," John murmured as the two looked to him.

"What?" Greg asked as he looked to the doctor, wondering what the man meant, he hadn't heard that word before.

John frowned, "Oh it means a diet of bread and water," he smiled a little, "One of my old professors at Uni would often use the more unusual words to try and get us to think, that was one of them," he chuckled as he then went back to his report.

"Do you know any more?" Sherlock asked, a little curious, "I don't think I have ever heard you say anything unusual before."

"I have one more, which I call you often," John smirked as he looked over to his partner, "Quidnunc," he chuckled as he remembered the meaning.

Sherlock frowned as he tried to think what the other meant by those words, "I don't know that one."

John laughed as he told him, "one who always wants to know what is going on."

Greg smiled and nodded, "yeah, sounds like Sherlock," he grinned over to him as he then spotted the pictures of the first victim and sobered up, "have you been able to think of anything that could help Sherlock?"

"Yes, they have been taken from the streets and kept somewhere, they are pale so there isn't a lot of sun for them, the diet is as John said, of nothing but bread and water. They don't need to be strong at all, the weaker the better to control them," Sherlock said as he then looked at them, "there is weight loss, but I can't tell by how much, it would be better for me to look at the bodies to be able to see what is gong on," he then said as he looked back to the report in his hand, "they communicate with family, telling them they are away, is there any recordings of these conversations at all?" he then asked as he looked to Greg.

Greg nodded, "There's two of them, the first two victims couldn't get in touch with family and left a message on answering machines, both families found it a little odd and kept them. One thought their mobile and the other through their home phone. They are a little odd as well, word for word they are exactly the same." He told him what he had learned.

Sherlock frowned as he then asked, "didn't they get in contact with the police at all about them?"

"The first family did, wanted to report her missing, but since they had this recording saying that she would be away for a while, they didn't do anything, except fill out a missing persons report, and even then it wasn't investigated." Greg said, wincing a little at the thought of nothing being done.

"How long from the call until she had been killed?" he asked as it wasn't in the report that he had been given.

"Eight days," Greg answered as he then added, "the second family came to the police as well, the same thing, they had came into the police the day they got the call as well, coincidence, they went to different stations on the same day, thirty two days later, she was found murdered," he told them, "The other family said they got a call, but when they tried to question her, she just ignored it and carried on, we got them to listen to what had been said in the other calls, and they said it sounded exactly the same as what their daughter said, it was sent on the same day as the others as well," he said softly, seeing the pattern already.

"So, I would say that the other three families, since I believe that the Mary Kelly would already have been selected and taken, they would have all have gotten a call like this. I have no doubt that in a months time we will find the body of Mary Kelly, but at this moment in time she is still alive." Sherlock said as he sat back and thought through everything, "I need to see the other bodies, have they been released to family or are they still at the morgue?" he asked as he looked to the inspector.

"Still at the morgue," Greg answered as he looked over to John and wondered if he had found anything that the others didn't.

"There are traces of other things in the blood, most likely from the water, and where they were," John said, "would be something that can be traced to a general area. I doubt they thought of using bottled water, which is more generic, and harder to trace the source," he added, hoping that it would be something that they could come up with.

"It is a possibility if we are dealing with a mundane killer," Sherlock nodded as he thought of all the things that would be able to help them find out where they had been kept, "pollutants on the clothing, trace evidence, Lestrade, I need to look at their clothing as well," he then said as he sat up straight and looked to him.

"All right, what ever you need, you know that," he nodded as the three of them stood up, ready to head out and look at the bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!  
> I am going to try and edit some of this ahead of time, so I might be able to post during October and November and beginning of December, while I do NaNoWriMo once more.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

** No Pain No Gain **

** Chapter Thirty Nine **

Sherlock and John grabbed their coats as Greg pulled on his own. They walked out of the flat and down the stairs, each of them saying goodbye to Mrs Hudson as she brought in the mail. Greg went off in his police car back to the Yard while Sherlock and John took a taxi to St Barts. They walked silently through the corridors and down to the morgue, Molly was sitting at her desk typing up her latest report.

"Molly," Sherlock smiled to her as the two of them walked in.

"I've already received word from Greg to let you see the bodies of the previous victims, and their clothing is already down here, Anderson brought it down and he said he would be staying here," Molly said with a little sigh and smile.

"All right, as long as he keeps away from it all while I'm working." Sherlock said as he followed Molly to the morgue as she brought out the three bodies and let the man get to work.

John stood back as he felt someone move towards him, he turned to see Anderson, "Morning," he said as he gave the other a polite nod.

"How can you even stand to be around him," he sneered a little bit, as he looked from John to the Sherlock who was looking at the second victim closely.

"I can see how brilliant he really is, he doesn't hide it I know, and it makes you feel as though you really are the idiot that he calls you at times. He really doesn't understand social cues at all, but I can see something that you and Donovan always miss," John said as he watched.

Anderson frowned as he looked to him and said, "Well, what is it?"

"He does care, he pushes it aside all the time and let the more logical side of him come to the front, at first I didn't see it that often, but now I know what I'm looking for," he answered as he moved towards Sherlock as he finished looking over the bodies and walked towards him.

"Thank you Molly, I'll be looking over the clothes now," he nodded to her a small smile on his face as he did so.

"Okay," she smiled as she started to move that bodies back to the freezer.

"Find anything Sherlock?" John asked as he waited for the other to get to him.

"Not much," he said with a soft sigh, "I was able to see that they had been in a dark place before their deaths, and that they hadn't done much walking, muscle mass on both of them is lower than it should be. As well as weight, and we have pictures from them before they were taken and each of them had a little more weight on them than when they were next seen. Thought it does indicate that each of them lost more weight than the last, showing us that they were all taken within hours of each other I would say," he added as he led the way to the lab where the clothing waited for him.

"Anything else?" he asked, wanting to know if Sherlock was keeping anything back, he had a habit of doing that at times, and he knew that it wasn't always the best thing to do.

"I just need to look at the clothes, and see what I can find on them." He said as he entered the lab and went over to them, putting on fresh gloves as he then began to handle the clothing that had been found on the victims.

"Hey Molly," John said as the woman entered the room a few minutes later. He was watching Anderson as he hovered near Sherlock as he worked, though he was just glad that the other wasn't saying anything for once. John had been able to figure out quiet quickly that Anderson wanted to impress Sherlock, and would often come up with wild theories, trying to show the other that he was smart as well.

"Hey John," she smiled as she stood beside him, "Has he found anything?" she asked.

John shook his head, "no, he'll tell us when he does." He smiled as he then said, "Is it all right if you and I have a little talk?"

Molly frowned a little as she wondered what he would want to talk to her about, "Erm, sure, here or somewhere else?" she asked him.

"Well since those two are too engrossed in what they are doing, how about over there, since they wont be able to hear us at all," John smiled as he led her to the far side of the room, giving them a little privacy while still being nearby.

"What is it you want to talk about?" she asked him softly, her voice low.

"I heard that someone wants to ask you out." He said with a gentle smile.

"Oh, I won't be dating any time soon," she said with a vigorous shake of her head.

John frowned a little as he then asked, "why not? I think this one would be good for you."

Molly shook her head, "no, I don't want to chance it, what if they turn out like that again, what if they go for Sherlock, he's my friend, and so are you and both of you could have been killed."

John smiled softly, "Molly, this guy is on the force and likes you, I over heard him saying he would like to ask you out, give it a chance, it might not go anywhere, or it might actually be something you both like. You just don't know until you try and keeping to yourself is never a good idea," he tried to reassure her, not really knowing what he could say that would be able to help her get over her fear of dating people after Jim Moriarty.

"I know, I just don't want someone that will go after my friends again," she spoke softly.

John shook his head, "Just give it a go, and Sherlock said he would suit you, so trust in his words if you don't mine." He grinned a little at that.

Molly blushed a little, John could tell that she still wasn't fully over her crush on Sherlock, but he could understand that, "okay, I'll give it a try."

"John!" Sherlock called to him as he was about to say something else.

"What Sherlock?" he asked as he stood up and walked over, Molly following him as Anderson stood watch, looking at them all.

"The trace evidence that I have gathered from the clothing and tested, I think I might have two areas where we can check, there are two different types that they all have in common, I don't know about the last two victims, since they are still being brought in," he said as he looked to the others in the room, mostly ignoring two of them as he looked to John.

"All right, then we should tell Lestrade and get two teams together, we'll head to one with someone and then head to another, we don't go without back up, since we don't know what we might find." John said, giving Sherlock a look that told him he better go along with it.

Sherlock sighed as he protested, "It will take too long."

John shook his head, "no it wont, and don't forget that we still have time before she will be killed, we need to do it properly, we don't want to put her in danger if we just rush in without any planning."

Sherlock almost groaned at the logic that John was using on him, "Very well," he said as he then walked out of the room, taking his gloves off and trashing them.

John smiled at the two left in the room and said bye as he followed Sherlock out of the room and St Bart's. It didn't take them long to take a cab to the Yard.

"I don't see the point in making sure to inform them, I am sure that we will be able to go and look ourselves, we could even head over there now and they can catch up if you are so worried." Sherlock tried to get John to change his mind.

John looked to him and said, "I worry Sherlock, you put yourself in danger all the time by doing that and I just wish to keep you that little bit safer so we can live a nice long life together."

Sherlock gave a soft sight as he reached a hand over and took John's, "I think it is the only thing that will make me do this." He told him.

John sent him a warm smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Well new fics are now up. Sorry for not posting last week, I had a cold and migraine attack going on at the same time. I was only just able to post the Harsh Reality One Shot.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Forty**

The cab pulled up outside New Scotland Yard, and the two of them got out and headed to Lestrade's office. They ignored Donovan, who once again started to make comments at the two of them. She was easy ignore as they walked into to Greg's office and closed the door behind them. He looked even more worn down that when they had last seen him at the flat only a couple of hours ago.

"What is it?" he asked as he looked to the two of them.

"We have two locations where they might have been kept, but only the first three victims. I will need to see if the others were kept in the same place, but it is somewhere to begin at least," Sherlock said, his voice sounding bored, though both men knew that it wasn't the trust at all.

"All right, I'll get two teams set up, I suppose that you two wish to come as well," he said and smiled when he saw that he was right.

"Yes," Sherlock rolled his eyes as he sprawled in one of the chairs in the room, he then told him the two locations that he had been able to figure out, he just hoped that they hadn't been moved since then.

Lestrade nodded and got up, he called out to a few officers outside the room, it didn't take long for almost twenty officers to gather in the conference room, waiting for their boss to tell them what it is they were needed for.

"Right, we have two locations we need to check, these places are where the first three victims had in common before their deaths. I'll be splitting you into two teams, each of you are to stay with a partner at all times. Donovan and Sherlock will be in charge of the one group, make sure you listen to them both," he said giving a look to Donovan that she should also listen to Sherlock when needed. "John and I will be in charge of the other area. Make sure to report anything you see that is out of place, if you hear anything that could be another person alert your team leaders immediately. Don't forget to be careful," he added as he looked to them all. Though he made sure to look at Sherlock and John the most, since they had a nasty habit of getting into trouble no matter what the two of them were doing.

The officers were split up into two teams and were sent off in vans, Donovan, not happy about being told that she would have to listen to Sherlock as much as he had to listen to her. Though John was a little uneasy about letting Sherlock going with her. The doctor had a few words with him before they left to make sure he didn't cause too much trouble.

XxXxX

John sat in the car with Greg, two officers behind him in the back seat, "do you think it was a good idea to have Donovan and Sherlock go together?" he couldn't help but ask.

"No I don't, but I thought that with the two of you separated, we might stand a better chance of you actually looking before you leap, so to speak," he glanced over as they pulled up outside of the warehouse that thy were to search.

They got out and looked at it as the van pulled up behind them and more officers joined them, "right, we have a map," John said as he pulled out the map of the warehouse that they were looking over, "It's large and there are a number of rooms, its not been used in about a year so far. But that doesn't mean that people aren't here, this is a good place to squat." He added as he moved it around so it was laid on the bonnet of Lestrade's car.

"We'll split up into pairs and search an area each, don't split from your partner at all, make sure to keep in contact with others and tell if you see something that doesn't belong. If you find someone, hold them and question them." Lestrade told them all.

They nodded and were assigned areas to search and moved out. Greg and John were one pair, it made sense for the two of them to remain together, since even though John was ex army, he still wasn't a Police Officer like the others, and knew the way things were. They walked around the darkened building, the sun still shining through the high windows, barely sending any light into the place. They could hear the other officers talking to the people that had taken to squatting in the building.

"Hello," John smiled as he say one of the people sitting in a pile of blankets, he walked over and knelt down, it was a young man, around his early twenties. He looked him over with a doctors eyes, he could tell that the young man was ill, and by the way he was breathing there was a possibility it could be pneumonia, "Greg, I think we should get an ambulance here for him," he said as he spoke quietly as he looked over to Lestrade.

Greg nodded and called it in, saying that there was someone ill, "We might end up with a few more." He said as he went over to the pair.

"It wouldn't surprise me," John said as he check the young man over, "How are you?" he asked gently.

The young man looked up and then started coughing, John helped his as best as he could, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, "sorry," he croaked a little when he stopped. "I'm fine, just a little cough," he said as he answered John's question.

"Well, I think its more than a little cough, we're getting you to a hospital where they will look after you properly okay. Just make sure to follow what they tell you," he smiled softly, the young man nodded as the paramedics arrived. John told them what he had found and left them to it as the two of them carried on looking around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Back from Alcon, two fics wont be updated this week as I haven't had time to write them.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Forty-One**

"Sir!" Came a shout from one of the officers that was searching the place, "Minor and I think we have found something," he called out, getting the attention of the others in the warehouse.

Greg and John ran over to them remembering where they had been told to search. "What is it?" Greg asked as he stood before the two officers.

"We found a trap door, it looked as though it wouldn't work, but Minor saw that the rust had been chipped off as thought it had been moved recently. So we had a look at it," he answered quickly, "we haven't opened it yet, we thought it would be best if you were able to have a look before we touched anything," he added as he and Minor moved tot he side and let the two others have a look at what had been found.

"All right," Greg said as he moved closer and looked around, he was no Sherlock, but even he could see boot prints in some of the dust that was around. "Get forensics down here, I think they need to go over the place. Keep to the edges a little, there are boot prints and some of them look to be like the ones that were at one of the crime scenes this morning." He added as he stood up and looked to John.

"We need to open it and make sure no one is in there, with the drugs that were given to the victims and the amount, it would have been an almost constant haze, with very little in the way of lucid moments. This type of sedative is also addictive as well, they wont be able to answer us if we call out." John told him what he knew of the drug that had been used on at least three of the victims.

"Okay," Greg nodded as he grabbed some gloves and then with Johns help pulled up the heavy trap door, they took a step back as the smell of faeces and urine hit them strongly. "Looks like someone was down there at one point at least, and for a while by the smell of it."

John nodded his head, as he breathed calmly through his mouth, even thought it was just as bad for him, "Shine a light down there," he ordered as Minor moved forwards a little and did just that.

John and Greg looked into the hole, but didn't go in there. "I think we will have to go down," Greg said, though he didn't like the thought of that.

John nodded and told him, "I'll go first," Greg nodded reluctantly as John then jumped down, a torch in hand as he quickly looked around, "there's nothing here," he called up and Greg joined him. There was only about four feet above him as the two of them ducked down to get a better look at the place. It was quiet large for an underground storage. There were six mattresses on the floor, spread around, the two could see that there was faeces on each of them, in one corner there was a large hose pipe, which looked to have been used at some point, as it was still leaking a little water, going down a drain that wasn't that far away.

"They were kept here," Greg said as he looked around sadly, "I can't tell when they left though." He added as he moved around a little, careful of where he was going.

The two of them made their way back to the hatch and climbed out, "Forensics may be able to help with that." John said as they moved away to breath some fresher air.

"So we have at least this place where they had been kept at one point, I wonder when they were moved and where were they moved to?" Greg asked more to himself than to John who nodded in agreement.

"Wish Sherlock was here, have a feeling he would be able to figure it out." John smiled with a shake of his head as he thought of his partner.

Greg nodded in agreement as he watched the forensics move in and start to process the scene, Anderson was with the other group this time. Pictures were being taken and they stood around waiting for them to finished. Both thinking about what Sherlock and the other team had found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter I know, but its all building up to something!  
> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Well, wedding over and now NaNoWriMo is about to start, be warned, I might not update each week during October and November. I am going to try and do so.

**No Pain No Gain**

**Chapter Forty-Two**

Sherlock looked around the building, it had once been full of office workers, but now lay abandoned because of the economic down turn. Donovan hadn't said a word to him during the entire time, but then again, he wasn't counting his good luck just yet. He moved away as they were split up, Donovan deciding that it would be best to keep an eye on him instead of working with someone else.

The consulting detective ignored the woman following him as he looked around the floor he had decided that he would look over, while sending other officers to the other floors in the building. Donovan followed him closely as he stopped and knelt down and frowned as he saw that some of the dust had been disturbed, he followed the pattern until he came to a wall he looked at it closely.

"It's a false wall," he said as he looked over to Donovan.

"What?" she frowned as he walked over to him and looked around as well, she couldn't tell that there was anything false about it as Sherlock continued to look around.

"Ah," he said as he smirked, there was a small grease pattern on part of the wall, as though someone touched the area all the time, he quickly felt around and could feel a small button. "Step back, as I don't know which way this will open." He said as he waited for the woman to get out of the way.

Donovan moved out of the way, thought she had doubts that Sherlock had found anything as she waited for something to happen, "Oh," she murmured as she watched the wall slide open, a creaking noise going on as it opened wide enough for two or three people to get through at once.

"There," he said in triumph as he then twitched a litlte form the smell that was coming from the room, "looks like they had already left here, and by the smell, I would say about three days ago at the most." He added as he looked inside the room.

Sherlock slowly walked in and looked around, there were six mattresses on the floor, each of them were covered in faecal matter and the stench was over powering. The consulting detective ignored it as he walked further in, Donovan following him holding a hand over her mouth and nose, hoping to block out the smell.

"It would be best is you breath through your mouth," Sherlock told her as he gave her a quick glance and then started to look around, careful of where he was going. He checked out the room as Donovan called in what had been found and asked for the forensics to come up.

"What do you have fr…" she began to say and then calmed herself as she said, "Holmes?"

"They were here for a while, a day before the first victim was found, there isn't much debris on her from here, unlike the others. Which tells me that they were here for a while before they moved the remaining victims from here to a new location, three days ago," he said as he carried on examining what was around him, "Three days," he then said as he looked over to Donovan, "we missed them here by three days. They had been here until then and then moved. I need to examine the clothing for the last two victims." He said as he started out of the room, intending to do just that.

"You can't leave yet!" she called to him as he ignored her and headed out of the building. She pulled out her phone and called her boss.

"Lestrade," came her bosses voice as he answered.

"It's Donovan, Holmes just left, said something about examining the clothing of the last two vic's, he said we missed them here by around three days." She told him, wondering what the man would do.

"All right, leave him be, he might be able to find something, they had been here as well for a while, don't know how long, Sherlock would though," he said, as Donovan could hear movement and quiet voices in the background as Forensics came up to start processing the room.

"Yes sir," she replied as the call ended and she looked around and carried on with the investigation at the building, hoping that she would be able to find something else, something that Sherlock had missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and the kudos, you guys are the best ever. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, just having a little fun while I have the chance.
> 
> Sorry for taking so long, my laptop broke in November, and I only got it fixed in January. Had a few other things going on during January, so I didn't update. But now that is all out of the way, I am back!
> 
> Thanks go to Madyamisam for editing, all remaining mistakes are mine!

**Chapter 43**

Sherlock got into a cab and told the driver to take him to St Bart's. He pulled out his phone and sent a text, making sure to send it to Lestrade as well as John.

**On way to St Bart's need to look at the latest victim's clothing, join me there. - SH - 12:38pm**

It didn't take long for him to get to the teaching hospital as he made his way through the corridors and to the morgue once again, hoping that Molly would be able to get him the clothing. He needed to see where they had been while they were they would be able to narrow down the area like he had done before. Thanks to the soil samples and the water that had seeped into the clothing.

**Heading there now, will see you soon - JW - 12:43pm**

Sherlock glanced at his phone and didn't bother sending one back as he carried on to the morgue. He waited for Molly to finish what she was doing as he heard someone come up behind him.

"Sherlock," John called out a smile on his face as he walked over, Greg following behind him.

"John, Lestrade," he nodded to the two of them as he saw that Molly was now finished. He went over to her and was able to find out that the clothes were still with her and hadn't been sent to Forensics yet. Greg watched over him as he began to take scrapings from them, gathering all he could from the clothing.

John and Greg followed him to the lab as he worked. The two were quiet as they watched, knowing that the other was also deep in thought, remembering all the experiments that he had done, looking at soil samples from around the city and water types. Sherlock finished and walked over to the two of them almost two hours later.

He nodded at them as he said, "They were taken to one more place afterwards. Both of them hosed down and cleaned, only to be murdered hours later. They were killed as the sedative wore off, just as John said, there was still traces of it in their blood, so they would've been still be groggy, it's why no one heard anything, not even a struggle."

"They were taken just to be killed," John concluded sadly, his voice soft as he shook his head at another senseless death.

"Exactly, they were taken for a reason, why, I don't know still have one left to find, and she has a month left to live." He explained as he looked at Lestrade and then back to John.

"Shall we check this other place you found?" Greg asked him, wondering if there was any point.

"We could, but I would think that they would have moved their captive by now." Sherlock told him, "I don't believe they would be stupid enough to leave their captive in the same place."

"But they had the first three in the same place for a while even killing three of them after taking them from there." John reminded him.

"Yes, but now I am working the case and so is Lestrade, even the idiots in the city would be able to tell that things will soon come to an end if they carry on their current trend. I just hope we may be able to catch up with them." He told his partner.

John was something to consider as he thought about it a little more. Lestrade was known for sorting out a lot of cases and since working with Sherlock he had seen that number soar.

"So we look at the place and hope that they left a clue behind as to where they would be heading next." Lestrade said as he and John follow Sherlock who stood up.

"I would say that would be the best option." He nodded in agreement, "I would think only a few of us should go on this one." He added as he looked at the two men instructing them where the last two victims would have been kept, "No specific address, but there is only one abandoned building in the area, an old factory" he added.

"I don't like the thought of that Sherlock, I'll try to not to bring too many officers but we don't know what we might find. We might find the place empty or we might find who we are looking for. So let's err on the side of caution." Lestrade told him as the three walked out of the building and he called to get a few people together to go over there.

They got in Greg's police car and headed to the site.

They met with the officers that Donovan had sent over and went over what they were to do. Since no one had a map this time, just a general idea of the layout,they split up with John and Lestrade working together this time as Sherlock went off with one of the younger officers.

Greg and John walked silently through the building, it was as though the place had been abandoned one day and no one had come back to work the next day, things were strewn around that had dust gathering on them. Hey looked around and John noticed that there was some dust that had been disturbed, not a lot, but enough for people to see that someone had been there sometime recently.

Greg and John cautionary made their way towards it. They looked around closely and they could see more disturbances further ahead. There was a door not far from where they were. They went slowly and made sure to keep themselves was something about the place that made the two of them more vigilant than they had been at the other place they had looked over. This time there might actually be a high chance of coming across the ones that had murdered five women and held another captive. Greg pulled out his firearm and John cursed to himself, wishing he had thought to bring his own that morning.

John opened the door for Greg to looked inside, gun raised just in case. There were three mattresses on the floor, two were empty and one, had a woman lying on it, she was unconscious.

"John check her," Greg instructed as he let the doctor move pass him.

John went over and knelt down, checking the woman over, "She's malnourished and dehydrated as well," he listed her condition as he checked her eyes, "Heavily sedated as well but no other injuries." He told him as he then heard a thump and a thud behind him. He turned around as a flash of pain went through him and the world around him went dark as he slumped unconscious to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments and kudos, you guys are awesome. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, I'm just having a little fun.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 44**

Sherlock sighed as he finished looking around the first floor. He had come across nothing that would help him. He looked to the officer as order him, "Contact Lestrade and tell him that there is nothing on the first floor."

"Yes sir," the young man said as he did that, a few moments later he said, "Sir, I'm not getting any answer from him."

Sherlock whirled around to the man and said, "let's find them." There was something about this case that wasn't adding up.

The two quickly headed up to the second floor where John and Greg should be. He moved around and could see their footprints in the dust as they walked. He could see that they had changed their pace, more cautious as they moved, changed sides. He felt as though he was watching a film as he looked around and then said to the officer beside him, "call the other, something's wrong."

The young man nodded as he got the others to start heading towards them, Sherlock hated the thought of waiting, but knew that it would be best, they didn't know what they would find. He could see an open door not ten yards in front of him, and the footprints led directly to them. It didn't take long for the others to come in, one of them said that they had called Donovan and told her that something was going on and that she would be there with others soon.

"No time, keep safe," he said as he started to move, quickly reaching the door and looking in, on the floor before the door was a number of prints leading to somewhere else and some coming into the room. The other officers were spread out, keeping an eye out for anyone else. Sherlock looked in and saw Lestrade on the floor, unconscious, "Call the paramedics," he called out as he went into the room, looking around making sure that he couldn't see anyone else, and then he saw the woman. There was no sign of John in the room at all. Though there were signs that someone else other that the woman, John and Lestrade had been in the room.

"Sir, what's going on?" the young man that had been assigned to partner with him asked.

"Lestrade is down, and the woman is here as well. There is no sign of Dr Watson," he answered him as he check Lestrade over and found that he had been hit on the head with something heavy. He put the older man into the recovery position as he called someone into the room to watch over him. He went over to the woman and could tell that she was on sedatives as she was just lying there, vaguely aware of the things around her. He did the same with her, and could tell that she had been cleaned off recently with the dampness of her clothing.

"Sargent Donovan's here now sir," the young man that had been partnered up with, said as Sherlock could hear the sound of boots approaching the room, "Sir, the paramedics are here as well." He then added.

"Good," he murmured as he began to looked around the room, trying to deduce what had happened to leave Lestrade unconscious and John nowhere to be seen.

"Can you tell what happened Holmes?" Donovan said as she stood in the doorway, and waited for him to tell her what he could tell.

He looked around carefully and he could always see what happened as he imagined it, "Lestrade was attacked from behind, he didn't hear the man come it at all. The weight of the boot prints near Lestrade tell that it's the same one that killed the women. John had checked the woman over there and knelt down, he was struck as he turned. There is some blood on the floor, only a small amount, telling me that John didn't remain down for long. From the weight of the boot print as it came and then left the room, I would say that the person now has John." He got up and turned to her, "I'm going to follow the prints, see if I can pinpoint where they lead at all." He added as he then left the room. Donovan following behind him, wanting to make sure he got into no trouble.

"Wait up, you can't just rush off like that," Donovan said as she caught him up.

"And at this moment in time a killer has John, I am not going to wait around for him to…" he trailed off as he swirled around and carried on following the trail, hoping it would lead him somewhere. He didn't want to think about what could happen to John, he had to push it away, had to leave sentiment behind and concentrate on what he could see and observe.

Sherlock moved around, going down to the ground floor as he heard a vehicle move away from them. He ran but all he could see was the back of it going around a corner. He looked around and could see a number of CCTV cameras, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number that he hated to, but knew he would need all the help he could get.

"Hello Sherlock," came the smooth tones of his brother Mycroft.

"Mycroft," he said as he quickly rattled off where he was, "I need you to look through the CCTV cameras in the area and tell me about a dark blue van that just left the area. I believe that John is inside it, no I know he was inside it," he said as he looked to the floor nearby and could see the tyre marks on the tar and the steps that led there.

"I will get right on it, I'll call you back in a moment Sherlock." He said as he cut the call.

Sherlock hoped that he would be able to get something that would lead him to John. He couldn't help but shudder a little as he thought about what could be happening to his boyfriend. He turned when he heard someone come behind him. It was Donovan, she actually looked concerned which took Sherlock by surprise. But then he deduced that it would be for John and the hope that he would be all right. Sherlock had to believe that, since he didn't think he would be able to carry on if he let the worse case scenario play through his mind.

"Did you see anything?" She asked him, waiting for him to answer. There was no sneer on her face, or disgust in her voice as she spoke, just concern.

He shook his head, "I was too late to see anything and I am hoping that someone else will be able to tell me what they know." He hinted, not really telling her about what his brother could do, since it was no one else's business but his, and maybe John's.

"All ri…" she began to say as Sherlock's phone began to ring.

He answered it quickly as he listened to Mycroft's voice come through, "We couldn't see anything Sherlock, the cameras in your area have been jammed for the last 98 hours. Not only that, but Anthea has just learned that the problem has been going on in a larger area for the last ten hours. She is trying to solve the problem now, we might have them back in the next hour, but we can't find anything out," He told him, his voice steady and even.

"What?" Sherlock said as he turned around, wondering if he could find anything that would help them, "very well." He said as he shut down what emotions wanted to come forwards.

"I'm sorry Sherlock," he said, his voice a little softer as he then hung up.

Sherlock put his phone away and said to Donovan, "I couldn't get anything from him, there is something jamming the CCTV around here." He then walked away as he began to look around the area. He could tell by the tyre treads that the van was a Ford E-Transit. He stopped when he saw a container not far from them. It looked out of place, newer than what else was around.

The consulting detective walked over to it and knelt down, his eyes going wide as he saw the slightly charred remains of a heart in the container. He knew exactly who had taken John, and that didn't bode well for either of them in the end. He stood up and calmed himself down with a deep breath and then turned to Donovan, "It's Moriarty." Was all he said as he could hear a ringing of a phone, he looked to the box as he saw the heart vibrate. He knelt down once again, pulling out a pair of gloves and putting them on, he moved the heart and could see a clear plastic bag with a mobile inside.

"Do you really think you should do that again?" Donovan said as she remembered the last time that a phone had been given to Sherlock a few months ago.

"Hello Sherlock," came the irish voice of Moriarty.

"Where is John?" he asked, not thinking of the pleasantries when all he wanted was John back.

"Now is that any way to say hello, as for John, he is a guest of mine for a while. Don't take too long in getting your little pet back though, he maybe a little too injured from our play." Moriarty told him, a lilt to his voice as he spoke.

"Tell me where you are and I'll come and you can let John go," he tried to bargain, knowing that in the end that is what Moriarty wanted, him.

"Now, that's not how this game is played Sherlock, you should know that." He said, his voice teasing, "first, I sent a name, see what you can figure out about it, and why I would send it to you in the first place."

"And if I don't?" he asked, wondering what the consequences would be to search for Moriarty and John instead of looking into what ever it was that the consulting criminal was going to send him.

"Well, John will be very cold when the day is over, this is your First Day Sherlock, and I've made sure to start out easy on you, and of course on Johnny." He laughed as he then added, "For each half hour that goes by I will give Johnny a nice cold bath, should keep him on his toes. I am so generous aren't I Sherlock, giving you at least an hour before I start having fun." He said, his voice happy at the thought.

"What's the name," Sherlock asked him, knowing that what he would be doing was more psychological torture to John at that moment.

"Wait for the message and that is the time you will be starting." He told him as he then added, "don't forget to call me with all that you know!" he almost sang down the line as it cut out.

Sherlock looked at the plain phone that was in his hands. All he truly wished to do in that moment was to throw it at something and see it smash, but he knew that he would need it to be able to help John and to keep him safe. It seemed to him that this time Moriarty was truly wishing to burn the heart out of him. At one point it had felt as though he hadn't one, but since John had moved in with him, life had taken an unexpected turn, he had first thought of John as nothing more than someone to talk to, but it soon became obvious to Sherlock that there was something more to the mild mannered man that had taken over the other bedroom in 221B baker Street. He had saved his life within a day of meeting him, and continued to keep him safe, and make sure he was taking care of himself. He was a guiding light and someone who helped him focus on things even more than he had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and Kudos, you are all brilliant. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter. You will truly feel sorry for John in the upcoming chapters!


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, I'm just having a little fun.
> 
> Thanks go to Madyamisam who editing this chapter, any remaining mistakes are my own.

**Chapter 45**

The phone in his hand beeped as he quickly checked the message and saw the name that he needed to look into. "Lee Traverson," he said aloud, wondering what it was that was familiar about it.

"That's a name I haven't heard for a while." Donovan mused as she watched him.

Sherlock looked at her and demanded, "What about it, tell me everything?"

She snorted, "Should have thought you wouldn't remember, being high like you were." She sneered as she thought of her boss lying in the hospital.

"I remember, I just deleted the details." He answered, unperturbed about his addiction being thrown in his face again. He had been clean for five and a half years now and he was proud of that. He knew that he couldn't let John down. Of all the people in the world he never wanted to disappoint was John..

"He was hanging around shortly after I joined up with Lestrade's team, when you were still taking drugs." She explained pointedly emphasising the last part of the statement., "He was always after something, confessing to crimes that he had committed but nothing came of it."

"Oh but he did commit at least one of those crimes. There was no sign of evidence," he whispered as he then walked away, he needed to look into the reports on the man.

"If there was no evidence, then he never did anything Holmes." Donovan called after him and then shook her head in frustration as she took off after the tall male.

"There is something that we missed, something you missed!" he called back to her as he reached the main street where there was less traffic. He reached out a hand and called a cab then got in. Sherlock was about to close the door as he told the driver to go to New Scotland Yard when the door was forced open and Donovan jumped in and sat next to him.

"You're not going alone. Even you are the last person I want to hang around with, Lestrade would kill me if he found out I let you run off without backup." She groused as she settled back and called the men that were around the old factory securing it for the forensics.

Sherlock said nothing as he noted that it wasn't just because Lestrade would reprimand her. The concern and worry on her face was obvious "you aren't coming because of that, you are coming because of John." He stated as he looked out the window.

She glared over at accusingly him, " Well someone has to. I don't know how you can be so calm when it's your friend that has been taken and you haven't told me a damn thing about that call. I want to know so when Lestrade is out of the hospital I can tell him everything he needs to know to be able to help you better." She was becoming incensed that he was still showing no emotion whatsoever about John's kidnapping.

Sherlock glanced over at her, his face calm and devoid of emotions as he replied, "If I let sentiment get in the way then I won't be able to think."

Donovan gave him a disgusted looked as she looked out of the window, she would be glad when Lestrade was up and about, she didn't like dealing with the freak. He was too cold and detached from things and to her that only led to one thing. To someone being a killer, and she wondered how long it would be for Sherlock to go down that path.

Sherlock shrugged inside as he looked out the window, trying to remember everything he could about Lee Traverson. As soon as the cab pulled up he tossed a couple of notes to the driver, slightly tempted to make Donovan pay, but refrained since he didn't want to listen to her voice any more. He walked into the yard and down to the files room, he had been there often over the years. Donovan still following him like a lost puppy now that her boss was at the hospital. The sergeant had been called and told that he was awake and fine with the exception of a mild concussion. She knew as did most of the force that he would soon be back at the Yard asking for updates. She just hoped that there would be something to report back to him particularly about what had happened and that they were close to finding John, or even better, they had found John.

Sherlock pulled out the file that was on Traverson and then began to read, looking at his watch on occasions. He was quiet with Donovan watching over him, not paying her any attention as the time ticked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful kudos and comments, you guys are awesome. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own Sherlock, just having a little fun while I can.
> 
> Thanks go to Madyamisam for the editing, all remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Sorry for not updating yesterday, I had a bad fall. I’m okay, just feeling really bruised and a sprained ankle.

**Chapter 46**

 

Lestrade got out of the car and headed into the yard, he had been in the hospital since he had woken up for over two hours. He had no word from Donovan about what was going on and he couldn’t really remember much about what happened to him except that one minute he was watching John as he looked Mary Kelly over and then next he was waking up in the hospital.

 

Greg had heard from the officer that had taken him back to the yard that Donovan was in the files room with Sherlock and he was getting worried that there was no mention of John and whenever he mentioned him they went silent. He was annoyed about it as well as concerned. He just hoped that the other man was fine. He walked into the files room to see Sherlock pacing as he murmured words, though none of them made much sense to him as he spun towards one of the shelves and pulled something else off to read.

 

“What’s going on?” he asked as he saw Donovan and walked over to her.

 

“John was taken at the same time that you were knocked out,” she explained him, knowing that no one else had told the man, to make sure that he had a little time so that he could recover.

 

Greg’s eyes widened as he looked at Sherlock and wondered how the other was coping. He watched him for a moment and could see the slight crease of worry lines around his eyes and  from the pacing he had been doing. The consulting detective was extremely worried and dare Greg even think it, scared for his lover.

 

“Why wasn’t I told?” he demanded an answer as he looked at Donovan for answers.

 

It was Sherlock’s voice that came to him first in answer, “Simple Inspector, they wanted to make sure you would take it easy a little, though I could have told them that it wouldn’t have worked, you would have wanted to be here as soon as you figured out that you had been hit.”

 

Greg would have shaken his head, but knew that it would be a bad idea for the headache he still had, “You’re right on that one Sherlock, it was stupid. So want to tell me everything that they tried to keep from me?” he asked the man, since he would at least get a straight answer, even the hardened truth.

 

“John was taken the same times as you were knocked out. He was taken by Moriarty, though I believe that there were at least two others that were working with him, one to carry John and the other to drive the vehicle. Also, he left a phone behind, this one.” Sherlock answered as he then placed the phone he had found on the table and he then added, “he then called, telling me that this was the first day, I don’t know how many days he has planned but for this day I am to find out what it was that Lee Traverson has done. Somewhere in the pages of false confessions is a true one. I’m trying to figure out which one, the thing is, for every half hour that goes by that I don’t call him and give him the answer, John is going to be bathed in cold water. A form of torture to keep someone awake.” He answered honestly, Greg could now see the worry that the other was hiding and the heartache that was behind it.

 

“We’ll find him Sherlock and we’ll figure this out, but this time let us help you instead of you keeping things to yourself until the last minute.” Greg said as he sat down and pulled the reports to him as he too began to look through them, “if you want to be useful Donovan get over here and help.” He ordered as he looked over to the woman. Donovan didn’t say anything as she too sat down and began to look through the files.

 

“This one,” Sherlock said as he came across one that reminded him of one of the things that Traverson confessed to.

 

“Let’s hear it,” Greg ordered as he looked at the other and waited for him to start talking.

 

Sherlock looked at him and nodded as he then said, “Right, almost six years ago, I came across a person that was missing his daughter, I tried to look for her and yes, Donovan I know I was high most of the time back then,” he said as she opened her mouth to say something, “I determined that something foul had happened and that she had met her end. No body was found at all. She had simply vanished and everyone but I and her father believe otherwise. She may have had trouble, but that was mostly because of a lover that was treating her badly and drugging her at times to let his friends have sex with her. They raped her basically,” he clarified, “I was able to get that much out of the boyfriend, however he gave a number of names and some faces. Oh of course, anagram, why didn’t I see it before, Treason Lever, Lee Traverson. I should have noticed that the first time he said the name. This is what he did, this, he killed Jennifer Biggins,” he smiled as he looked at the watch and saw that almost five hours had gone by.

 

“But how can we be sure, there is no body?” Lestrade said.

 

Sherlock smirked, “no there isn’t,” he paused as he pulled another files to him, “yet, but in this confession dated the day after Jennifer Biggins was reported missing to you by her father and as he contacted me, Taverson came in and told you where the body was.” He smirked as he turned the page around and showed him what was written there in black and white.

 

Greg grabbed his phone and called up forensics to tell them to send a team out to look for a body. He told them that she was wearing a locket with a simple engraving, ‘a true Biggins is always loved’ a memento from her mother who had died before she went missing. If they find that then there is a high chance that they found the body of someone who went missing almost six years ago.

 

It was an hour later they got the confirmation they needed, Sherlock had wanted to call before they got it, but Lestrade had told him to wait, just in case. Sherlock picked up the phone and dialed the only contact number on it. He put it on speaker so that the others in the room could hear, though he wished that he didn’t have to let them, he didn’t want them to know what was going on with John, it was bad enough that he was being held captive and tortured.

 

“Well, well, well Sherlock, took your time on that one,” came the smarmy voice over the speaker of the phone, “Poor Johnny looks a little wet, but he should be fine, as long as you don’t take too long in trying to get here. But you’ll have to wait until later for that, time for you to have a rest Sherlock and while you do, just think, maybe Johnny will be as well, but only if you tell me what I wanted to know.” he laughed, it was cold and calculating.

 

“How do I know that John is even alive?” Sherlock asked, wanting to hear his voice and know that for now he was fine, or as fine as one could get in the hands of the enemy.

 

“Oh, you doubt me,” the tone of voice took on a sad tinge as he said, “I’m so hurt Sherlock, I thought you of all people would trust me to keep my word,” he paused for a moment as movement was heard, “Say hello Johnny.” He almost cooed as a small cry was stuffed after the sound of flesh being hit was heard over the line.

 

“She..Sherlock,” John stuttered as his teeth chatter from the cold water that had been thrown on him time and time again. He had heard every word that Moriarty had said to Sherlock earlier, he had listened to a recording of it after his first icey shower.

 

“Get him out of here,” Moriarty then said as someone grunted and movement was heard once again, “Well Sherlock, please tell me you found out what I am after?” he asked, his voice once again almost sing song in nature.

 

“Jennifer Biggins, she was murdered by him, during a bout of sex that he had with her while she was drugged, he buried her in the park near her home in the middle of the shrubs. He confessed to it, but she had never been found because the yard believed that she had just ran away to be by herself after her mother's death.” Sherlock told him, his voice holding no emotion as he spoke the words that Moriarty wanted to hear.

 

“Well done Sherlock but that was easy wasn’t it? The next one won't be though and poor Johnny is going to be in for a tough time if you don’t get things together. Let go of that heart that he says you have, you don’t have one, you told me. Because you know I’ll burn it all away, everything.” He said as he then disconnected the call saying, “Talk to you tomorrow Sherlock, make sure to have a nice rest and something to eat, you know Johnny worries about you,” he mocked him, “and don't worry about him, he’ll be able to rest as well, though he won't be able to have anything to eat, my boys love their food and don't like to share with others. Oh and do listen to the calls Sherlock, you never know when there might be a test.” He laughed as it was cut off.

 

Sherlock looked at the phone as thought it was mocking him, mocking him for not being able to get Moriarty to say anything about where they were. He thought back on the call and reviewed it in his mind, going over the sounds in the background trying to pinpoint where they could be. He could hear voices, but they were indistinct and he had to wonder if there were more than the two that he had first thought of. There were other noises, but at that moment his mind became filled with John. He pushed as best as he could to make sure that his mind was calm and focused, but it was a losing battle.

 

Greg could see that Sherlock was already close to being broken and he couldn’t understand how it was happening so fast. “We’ll find him Sherlock, and he’ll be fine. Just make sure to write everything down for now so that the rest of us can help as well.” He tried his best to reassure and get the other man to make sure that they would all be on the same page and be able to do their very best to get John Watson back to Sherlock, where he could see he belonged.

 

Sherlock nodded as he grabbed a pen and concentrated on what he could deduce from the phone call and from the one before hand. Writing it all down, he could tell that when the first call came in, there had been no noise to show that he was in the van. So that told him that if he had been there when the van had John in then they would have been within ten minutes of the factory. He thought back to the scene and shook his head, there were no lighter footprints on the ground at all, telling him that he wasn’t on scene. He couldn’t see Moriarty in the van either, so that would mean they had contacted him as soon as they could once they were out of sight, but within an hour of that call John would have been with Moriarty, he doesn’t lie about the things he was going to do to someone.

 

Sherlock carried on writing down what he could, trying to make sense of it all. He knew that tomorrow something else would come and he would have to face a Moriarty puzzle without John beside him, as he should be. He would be lost without his blogger and he certainly felt like it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the awesome kudos and comments, you guys are the best. I’m really happy that you have enjoyed the story so far. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own Sherlock, just having a little fun while I can.
> 
> Thanks go to Madyamisam for the editing, all remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Sorry for not updating yesterday, family were down for most of the day. This chapter is rather small, mainly a filler chapter.

Chapter 47

 

Jim looked around and smiled. He so loved to tease Sherlock, it was fun for him and the little game they were playing was just as good as the last one. He walked over to Sebastian and smiled at him then  he looked into the room where John Watson was manacled to the wall, to make sure that he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. It wouldn’t do for the man to escape.

 

“Well Johnny,” Jim smiled as he walked into the room, Sebastian following behind him like the dutiful puppy that he was.

 

John said nothing but glared at him.He hated the fact that this man was once more in their lives. He had came close to making it the end game for them all.

 

“Still haven't been taught any proper manners have you,” he said as he tutted, shaking his head from side to side.

 

“My… my… man… nors are… not for… you but for tho… those that deserve re… re… sp… ect and you… do… don't,” John couldn't help but say as he carried on glaring at him, his teeth chattering as he spoke, breaking up his words.

 

Sebastian moved forwards and punched John in the face, making it whip to the right, John could already feel the flesh beginning to swell at the force of it. “Sebby, now, now,” he smiled a lilt to his voice once again as he placed a restraining hand on that large mans arm.

 

Sebastian moved back and behind Jim, letting the other man go forwards towards the ex army doctor, Jim reached a hand up and gently stroke the check that had been punched and said, “Poor little Johnny,” he mocked a little as he then added, “what is it that Sherlock sees in you Johnny?” he asked him.

 

John remained silent as he could, thought he was beginning to lose a little feeling in his extremities again thanks to the cold air in the room. He looked at Moriarty and then to Moran that was standing guard. As if he would be able to do something in the state he was in, manacled to the wall by wrists and ankles.

 

“No answer, well you deserve some punishment for that,” Jim commented as he walked away and gave a nod to Sebastian, who once again moved forwards and with a smirk on his face threw another punch towards the defenseless man, this time at his stomach, causing the other to groan in pain.

 

The two walked out of the cold room and closed the door, John could hear it locking behind them as he was then plunged into darkness as the light in the room died out. “Sleep well Johnny, you’ll need it for tomorrow!” came the mocking voice of James Moriarty.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the awesome kudos and comments, you guys are the best. I’m really happy that you have enjoyed the story so far. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own Sherlock, just having a little fun while I can.
> 
> Thanks go to Madyamisam for the editing, all remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Sorry for not updating, things have been busy over the last couple of weeks.

Chapter 48

 

John gasped awake as something cold rushed over him. He opened blurry eyes and shivered as the freezing cold water seeping into his already damp clothes. He was still partially wet from yesterday, or at least he assumed it was yesterday, he was sleep deprived and his mind had lost track of the time.

 

While Moriarty hadn’t done anything more to him except the ice buckets of water thrown on him at certain intervals, he had been kept awake. This had been done with loud alarms blaring into the room, or someone coming in and calling him and occasionally blinding lights lighting up the room. Unlike Sherlock, John wasn’t use to remaining awake for so long, as well as the wake up calls, it had left the ex army doctor feeling out of sorts.

 

John could see Moriarty grinning at him, he had to repress the shudder, as he could tell that it didn’t bode well for him at all. Just a little behind Moriarty, stood his second in command, Sebastian Moran, who John had the pleasure of meeting for the first time yesterday.

 

“Good afternoon Johnny Boy,” Moriarty greeted the shackled man as he stepped a little closer.

 

John said nothing as he watched him a little carefully, wary of what he had in mind this time.

 

“Well that isn’t polite,” the man almost pouted as he got no answer, he turned to look at Moran and said, “I believe Johnny Boy needs a lesson in polite manners.”

 

Moran grinned sadistically as he replied, “My pleasure to help teach him.”

 

John forced down any reaction as Moran walked past Moriarty and cracked his knuckles. The doctor could already see the amusement in Moriarty's face as he watched Moran punch him hard in the stomach. John gasped and groaned in pain as he tried to double over, the shackles on his wrists stopping him from bending over.

 

“Let’s try that again now John,” he cooed, his voice full of amusement, as John got himself under control quickly and and tried to straighten himself up. “Good Afternoon John.” His voice becoming hard.

 

John took a small shuddering breath, part of him wanted to just give in, but that larger part of him didn’t want anything to do with the man before him, even behaving seemed the worst thing to do in his mind. He remained silent as he watched the two men before him, his could feel his wrists and ankles ache from where the restraints that he had been kept in since arriving chafed even more. He had not been out of them and he didn’t hold out any hope that he would be taken out of them any time soon.

 

John’s mind and body were tired, but he knew that Moriarty had once again taken him to get to Sherlock. Another game that the two genius were playing, though he wondered what this one will end like. He hoped that Sherlock would be able to keep himself safe and that he would at least call someone in to help him. He knew that his partner was impulsive, headstrong and would often rush off with no thought of his safety and that worried John a lot more than he wished to admit.

 

Moriarty watched John and looked over to Moran and said, “well, it seems like he doesn’t want to learn any manners Sebby.”

 

“Want me to try and teach him again?” Moran asked his boss as he looked at him.

 

“Why not, it's always fun seeing you at work.” A sadistic smile forming on his face once more.

 

Moran grinned and gave a nod as he moved forwards and with lightning speed he swiftly punched John in the stomach once again. John tried to move forwards, trying to curl upon himself as the restraints stopped him. The metal cuffs bite into his skin, drawing some blood this time. John groaned a little as he tried to quickly hide it and even out his breathing. He shivered a little from the cold, his body ached all over and he knew that he was beginning to suffer from hypothermia. He wondered how long he would be there for and how long it would take Sherlock to find him, he knew that the other would be trying, even though a part of John hoped he wouldn’t, to try and keep himself safe.

 

“Poor, poor Johnny,” Moriarty almost sang as he then added, “I always said that a old dog is so hard to train. Poor pet, he really needs the training, I’ll have to make sure Sherly knows that he needs to invest in some, if he comes.” He chuckled darkly as Moran joined in.

 

“I’m not a pet,” John bit out, he hated being referred to as a pet, made him feel useless once again.

 

“You are though, just a stupid ignorant pet,” Moriarty spat as he added, “I really don't know what Sherlock sees in you, you’re ordinary, nothing compared to him.” With that said, Moriarty tilted his head and nodded at Moran.

 

Moran quickly moved forwards and once again punched John, this time on the face. John felt the pain in his head and the world around him darkened a little, groaning as he went weak kneed a little and sagged in the restraints. He would have given anything for the blissful darkness to take him, but the world soon came back into focus. He could already feel the bruise forming on his check and around his left eye. His nose was pained and he felt something beginning to drip out of it, it was bleeding.

 

Moran grinned as the blood dripped down as he landed another blow to John, this time on his ribs. A few more landed as John had to bite back the moans and groans from the pain he was feeling.

 

“Thats enough now Sebby, we don’t want him to die on us just yet, leave that for latter.” Moriarty called a halt to the small beating.

 

”Alright,” Moran said as he stepped back and looked at the beaten man, that was hanging in the shackles, making them bite into his wrists as a few drops of blood began to make their way down his arms, staining his shirt sleeves.

 

“Oh what a sight, poor Sherlock would be so worried to see his poor pet in such a state, I must inform him at once.” Moriarty grinned as he pulled up his phone and took a picture of John, “Such a nice photogenic face you have Johnny,” his grin widening even more as he then sent the picture to Sherlock. “Let’s hope Sherlock enjoys the picture as much as we do.” He added as he turned around and walked out of the room, leaving the semi conscious man hanging against the wall.

 

Sebastian Moran looked at the ex army doctor and grinned, he hoped he would have a chance to have a little more fun later. He turned around and followed his boss out of the room, leaving Johnny alone once again, fighting to stay conscious and wondering what would be happening next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the awesome kudos and comments, you guys are the best. I’m really happy that you have enjoyed the story so far. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, I'm just having a little fun while I can.
> 
> Sorry for being away for so long. Near the beginning of last year, I had a health scare and didn't get the all clear until the beginning of November. Taken the last two months to get back into the swing of things. So hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Thanks to Madyamisam who went through this chapter, any remaining mistakes are my own.

Chapter 49

Sherlock looked over to his brother, he couldn't help the angry look that was on his face. His brother had taken him from New Scotland Yard yesterday evening. Lestrade and Donovan let him be taken away, almost dragged he would say. His brother had actually grabbed his arm and made him move, something that the other hadn't done since he was a young teen.

Mycroft was just looking at him, no obvious emotion on his face, but it didn't take a genius to be able to see that he was worried and not only for Sherlock and the game of cat and mouse that he had been dragged into with the kidnapping of John and the involvement of Moriarty. The smartly dressed man was also worried for Dr Watson, he had come to admire the man for staying with Sherlock for so long and if he had read the signs properly, which he knew he had, the two were now involved on a more personal level.

"Please stop pouting Sherlock," he said his tone smooth as he looked over to his younger brother.

Sherlock said nothing for a moment as he looked over to his brother, "I don't know why you dragged me away from the Yard, I need to help find John and being stuck here with you is not helping Mycroft. Why? Why must you always interfere in what I am doing?" he asked, though not really expecting an answer.

Mycroft looks to him and shook his head, "I know that you wish to find Dr Watson, sherlock and I will do all I can to help as well. But you know that there isn't anything else you can do right now, you were going around in circles trying to find something that isn't there at the moment."

Steel gray eyes locked onto his brothers, similar yet so different, "How would I know that there is nothing there when I wasn't allowed to even inspect." He stated.

"Sherlock," he sighed as he then added, "I know you wish to make sure, but you have let sentiment cloud your judgment at the moment, it can not be trusted."

Sherlock almost jumped off the sofa as he went over to the window and looked out, it had begun to rain an hour ago and the pitter and patter of the raindrops on the window soothed the agitated man, "Moriarty said he would burn the heart out of me, at that point I thought I had none, turns out I was wrong, John…" he trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

Mycroft gave him a sympathetic look, mixed with the normal worry for he had for Sherlock when he was dragged into something dangerous, "We will find John, I assure you, I have men on it as well."

Sherlock was about to say something when he heard someone bounding up the stairs two at a time. He turned to the open door of the flat as Lestrade came inside.

"Sherlock, Mycroft," the detective inspector greets the two of them as he entered the room.

"Gregory," Mycroft said, causing Sherlock to look over to him, his brother's voice had softened as he spoke the detective's name.

Lestrade smiled at him and nodded, "Thought I would come by and see how things are going."

Sherlock looked at him and nodded, not really wanting to talk to him, nor Mycroft. He watched as the silver haired man walked over to where his brother was seated and the two started talking in hushed voices. The consulting detective blocked it out, going over the calls that he had with Moriarty. He looked at the phone on the coffee table and willed it to buzz or ring, or something. As though his thoughts were answered, the phone rang as a message came through.

Sherlock grabbed the phone as the two others in the room looked at him. He brought up the message and almost threw the phone across the room as a strangled tone of despair made its way from his throat.

We're having so much fun, you need to hurry up and join us - JM - Sent 9:42 am

Above the text was a picture of John, hanging on the wall, he looked barely conscious, blood dripping from his nose. His arms were shackled above his head and Sherlock knew that would be hurting John's shoulder injury. Sherlock took a breath as he calmed himself down and then looked at the picture more closely, hoping to deduce something from it.

John looked dreadful, his clothes looked wet and looking on the concrete floor he could see that there was water surrounding him. Sherlock stood up and went over to John's laptop and quickly connected the phone to it and transferred the picture over. He brought it up, glad that it came up larger on the laptop than on the phone. He was able to see more, he could now see that the concrete must have been poured a number of years ago and the walls were bare, showing him that it was a steel structure with concrete walls. There was no natural light in the room either, telling him that the room was cut off from the outside world.

"What is it, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked his younger brother as he stood up and walked over to the man sitting at the desk.

"Moriarty sent me a text, with a picture of John. Steel and concrete building from what I can tell, so I would say old factory, maybe a warehouse, but doubtful." Sherlock said no emotion in his voice as he answered, he said nothing of John, he couldn't, he didn't want to think of John being hurt and basically tortured at the hands of Moriarty.

"What about John?" Greg asked as he walked over and looked at the picture that was now on the laptop screen, "Jesus," his whispered as he saw the state John was in.

Sherlock said nothing as the phone rang once more, another message had come through. He picked it up and barraged with a wall of text and none of it made sense.

\- JM - 10:03am

Sherlock read out the first one he received and then read out the next.

RPOCEPOLWR RECSPRREPS ORECOASCE PSPSRWLWRS AWPOLECRR ROASLRASPE AOAERSRSPS PWPRREROAR SASLSCSCOR AOROASPWAS SPOAWASCSR WCSASRSAEA SLWARLSLOA - JM - 10:03am -

"What does it all mean?" Greg asked as he looked over Sherlock's shoulder and saw exactly.

Sherlock and Mycroft looked at him and told him, "It's a code." They said at the same time.

"By the look of it a Polybius Square was used, though the first text I imagine belongs to a substitution code," Mycroft said, being more of a fan of codes and the breaking of them, "Something the Germans used during World War I, using the letters ADFGVX, though any can be used, it's a five by five square and inside you place the alphabet and go from there, but by the look of this one he didn't use ADFGVX, so something more personal, I would say." He added, giving a short explanation.

Sherlock said, "I believe the letters are R, P, O, C, E, L, W, A and S. That is one short, so one of the letters is duplicated." He paused for a moment as he then said, "Carl Powers. Though I don't know if he mixed the letters up around the square or had them in order." He finished.

"What about the first text?" Greg then asked as he moved closer.

Sherlock was about to say something when another text came through.

Well, Sherlock, I hope you enjoy this little puzzle, I'll give you a hint e, you are backwards, while I go in order. Do you get it, you should, it's so easy, and for your incentive to get a move on, poor John will enjoy some of my good friend's ability with a whip, each twenty minutes that go by he will get a lashing and each time the number will increase. Take care now Sherly! I wonder if John's a screamer. - JM - 10:05am

Sherlock hummed, "Each of the letters in the first text corresponds to a line in the second," he murmured to himself as he started to work it out.

Mycroft then interrupted him a second and said, "Sherlock, copy it out, I wish to help."

Sherlock glanced up at his brother and nodded, writing the letters out quickly. With the two of them working on it, they hoped that it wouldn't take them that long to work it out and maybe stop John from suffering too much from Moriarty's sick games. Greg moved away and made the two of them some tea, though he only expected Mycroft to actually drink anything. The detective Inspector knew he wouldn't be able to anything to help with the code, but at least he could supply them with drinks and maybe something to eat, though he doubts that either of them would have anything. He looked at them both, each of them working, occasionally sharing a word or two as they began to unravel the clues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and the kudos, I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, just playing around with them.
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Chapter 50

James Moriarty watched with glee as Sebastian Moran whipped John one last time, putting all his strength and weight into it. Twenty-one strikes had hit John's back and each one had drawn blood. The loud crack echoed in the room, as did the cry of pain that came from John. Moriarty couldn't help almost dancing with the sound, a sound that to him was like music. Sebastian looked around and grinned wolfishly over at his boss, he enjoyed the work out that he was getting. It wasn't often that he was asked to use the Bullwhip on someone. Moriarty preferred other methods when trying to get something from someone.

"Well, enough of that, for now, Sebby," Moriarty almost sang as he moved forwards and leaned against the wall. He could now see John's face, it was pale and sweating, panting hard and he could see that the man was trying to push the pain away. "So strong," he murmured as he brought a hand up and ran it over the other man's face, "such a hard pet to break in." He grinned as John looked at him, glaring as best as he could in the state he was in.

"Fuck… off," he gasped out as his body shook in pain.

"Now, now, please Johnny behave or I'll have to have Sebby try and teach you some manors again." He told him a sadistic smile on his face.

"Maybe you should have a try and teach him?" Moran suggested as he looked at his boss.

"Oh Sebby, what a wonderful idea and I have such a great thing to use and maybe to give our little Sherly some incentive to get a move on, it's becoming boring." Moriarty almost danced away as he went over to Moran and whispered in his ear.

Moran grinned and walked out of the room. John could hear the movement behind him and wondered what they were going to do next. He shuddered at the thought. He had been manhandled out of his restrained by Moran and two others and was now facing the wall, his upper half was bare and he could feel the blood running and dripping down his back. He heard someone come back into the room and Moriarty laughing.

"Well, we have a show to put on for Sherly, so let's get to it, Sebby, make sure the camera gets everything." Moriarty grinned as John tried to turn his head, he couldn't see either man, but he could hear footsteps approach him.

"Ready and recording," Moran called out.

"Goody," Moriarty said as he poured something into his hand, "Hope you enjoy this, I'm doing you a favor." He added softly as he almost slapped it onto John's ravaged back.

John couldn't help a yell tearing from him, it was salt, being pushed into the whip marks on his back. Over and over Moriarty put more salt on the open wounds, making sure that he did so all over. Moriarty laughed with glee with each yell and scream that broke free. John's body shook violently and his body started losing its strength quickly. It didn't take long for him to be slumped in his restraint, the only thing keeping him from curling up on the concrete floor.

"Oh, poor Johnny," Moriarty laughed even more as he saw John slumping in the restraint, he then moved away from John and look to the camera as he then said, "well Sherlock, I do hope you enjoyed the show, I'm trying to take care of your pet, but I'm not a Doctor and please do hurry up, it's almost time for more punishment for your failures."

With those last words, Moran stopped recording and grinned to his boss as he said, "when are we sending it, now or later on?"

"Why now Sebby, must give him something to get him moving because he obviously is taking too long." He almost pouted as he quickly loaded the film onto his phone and sent it off to Sherlock, "Well, that's done. Wonder what he thinks of it all. Oh, it's so wonderful!" he cried out happily as he looked over to the slumped blond man.

Moran nodded and chuckled, "Glad you're happy."

"Oh Sebby, I'm very happy, though a little annoyed, Sherly is taking too long to come and play. He hasn't got everything together yet. Make sure no one leaves the building, we have enough here to keep us happy and content for a good week or two. So make sure they don't, or they will face consequences. It could give us away earlier than planned." He said, starting on a high note before his voice turned cold and unforgiving.

"I've made sure they know that, but I will do so again," he nodded in agreement.

Moriarty and Moran then left the room, both talking quietly, too quietly for John to hear them as the door closed behind them and the light went out. John slumped further in his restraints and gave a pained cry as he let go of the last dregs of his composure and strength. He knew he would need more before the day was out, then again, he still didn't know how long it had been since he had been taken. His mind muddled with the odd timing they had in waking him up on and off during the day and night.

"Be safe Sherlock," he whispered in the dark, hoping that his partner would try and keep himself safe. John's vision blurred as he finally lost consciousness, welcoming the blissful darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the brilliant comments and kudos, hope you enjoyed this chapters.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, just having some fun.
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Chapter 51

Sherlock and Mycroft were huddled over the same piece of paper at the desk, each taking a chair and leaning over. Greg watched them as they worked, he had never seen the two of them work together, most of the time Mycroft would be complaining and worrying over Sherlock, while Sherlock would be just complaining about his brother's involvement in his life. Their relationship was animosity at best and pistols at dawn at the worst. Greg couldn't help but think what would happen if the two of them got along, what they could do together. He knew that the two work in very different ways, both were genius' and both did something they enjoyed, he couldn't fault them for that.

"Got it," Sherlock said as he placed the last letter that they had into the square, there were five combinations that hadn't been used, meaning that five letters weren't in the wall of text he had gotten.

"What does it say?" Greg asked as he got up from the sofa and walked over.

"I need to figure out the order first," Sherlock said as he looked over to his elder brother and waited for him.

"Well, I got the substitute code sorted," he said, his voice calm and smooth as he added, "Sherlock backwards, from s to z. And each letter from the rest of the alphabet going to each one, also backwards. With that, we got the name James Moriarty, but with doubles on some letters, it took a moment for me to remember that it's the correct order, so," he paused as he handed over a piece of paper with everything on it, "here."

Sherlock nodded and took it from him, he was about to start translating it when the phone rang. He looked at it and wondered what had happened, his heart had leaped into his throat at the sound and with a slightly shaking hand he reached out and picked it up. "It's a video file, not message," he told them as he then transferred it to the laptop and pressed play. Mycroft and Greg both moved behind him, to watch.

The three of them watched in horror as Moriarty poured salt into his hand and put it on John's back. Sherlock flinched as he heard John cry out in pain as it hit the open wounds on his back, Mycroft and Greg both placed a hand on each of Sherlock's shoulders, hoping to give him some comfort as they watched as Moriarty put more and more salt all over John's back.

"Oh, poor Johnny," the Moriarty on screen laughed as they watched John slump a little in the restraints. He walked towards the camera, as though he could see Sherlock as he spoke quietly, "Well Sherlock, I do hope you enjoyed the show, I'm trying to take care of your pet, but I'm not a doctor, and please do hurry up, it's almost time for more punishment for your failures." He laughed a little more as the screen went black as the video ended.

Sherlock was shaking when the video ended as he brought his hands to run over his face. As though he was trying to get rid of the images from his mind. He heard the echoes of the cries of his partner as he was tortured with the salt. He could see that John was weakened, in pain and becoming ill with all that he had gone through so far.

Guilt began to claw at his stomach as he thought of when Moriarty had first shown himself to him, how he had enjoyed and thrived on the game they had played. He had enjoyed it until he had come face to face with John in the swimming pool. Now all he felt was guilt, guilt for enjoying it, guilt for wishing someone like that to come along, guilt for John being dragged into it.

Worry was the next emotion that was making itself known to the Consulting Detective. The worry for how long John could hold out., Hold long it will take Sherlock to find him. Worry about how John will be when they found him, and there was a tinge of hope, that it would be over soon and John would once again be home, back at Baker Street, where he belonged.

Sherlock ran a hand over his face once more and picked up his pen, pushing the images that he had seen to the back of his mind as best as he could. He knew that it would be something that he would never be able to delete from his mind and he couldn't help the small shudder run through him as he thought of what Moriarty had in store for John as the days went by. He quickly started translating the wall of text he had been given and sighed a little, he was just glad that there was a lot of it since it helped make the code easier to solve.

"Done," he said almost ten minutes later. He looked at his brother and friend as he picked up the phone and began a text to Moriarty, with the answer.

Fourty Two is a most important number Sherlock but you will have to figure out why - SH - Sent 12:31 pm

"So what is it?" Greg asked as he went over and looked over the younger man's shoulder he read the writing and then asked, "What does it mean?"

"I think that it might have something to do with finding John, it's as though he is giving me a number of separate clues that all together will help me find John. Though why he spelled forty differently I don't know." He said his voice devoid of emotion as he tried his best not to think of what John was going through.

"Could mean four on its own, or just there to confuse us," Mycroft said as he looked to the translated text.

Sherlock nodded, "I know."

"Then we make sure to keep that in mind as we look at places," Mycroft said, his voice almost soothing as he looked at his younger brother, he wished that he could have done more to help other than be at Baker street, so far he had Anthea working on it, but had no word so far.

Sherlock nodded to him as he remained silent. It didn't take long for it to be broken as the phone on the table began to ring. They each looked at it and knew exactly who it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos, I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, just having a bit of fun.
> 
> Sorry for taking so long in getting a chapter up. Things have been busy. So much so that I am having to change to a Sunday update from now on.

Chapter 52

Sherlock looked at the phone on the table and sighed. It was starting to ring and buzz across the wooden surface. He picked it up, hand shaking and answered the call. Part of him wished he didn't have to answer, but he knew that Moriarty would be giving something that would bring him closer to bringing John home, back to Baker Street where he belonged. He put the phone on speaker so that his brother and Detective Inspector Lestrade could hear.

"Hello," Sherlock greeted simply, not wanting to acknowledge that Moriarty would be on the other end of the line.

"Hello my dear Sherlock, are you having as much fun as I am?" the teasing voice came through the speaker.

"How am I to have fun when you have John," Sherlock answered, keeping as much of the pent up emotions out of his voice. He didn't want to give Moriarty the satisfaction of letting him hear them.

"Oh, poor dear, well I suppose since you have been a good boy, I think I'll let you have a nice treat," Moriarty sang, his voice happy and high.

"Sherlock," came a groggy and pained voice.

"John," Sherlock whispered in relief at hearing his voice once again, "how are you?" he asked knowing that the true answer would be horrendous.

"I'm good, you stay safe, don't do anything stupid. You know what I mean," John then told him, his voice was weak. Yet there was something in his voice that spoke of a willpower of strength and determination that he would be beside Sherlock soon.

A yelp of pain followed the remark, "Such a naughty pet."

Sherlock winced at the sound, "John?" he called out, hoping that his boyfriend would answer.

"I'm sorry Sherlock, but if I ever decide to give your pet back, you really need to start training him to obey orders," he admonished his rival.

"I rather like John the way he is," Sherlock said through his clenched teeth.

"I suppose that I shall be doing my best to train him while I have him. You're too soft Sherlock," Moriarty said as a small gasp was heard.

"Why don't you let John go and I'll take his place," Sherlock pleaded. He hoped that Moriarty would take the offer. He would do anything to get John to safety.

Moriarty laughed, "Oh Sherlock, you poor thing. I'm sorry to say but he will be staying with me. I'm having too much fun."

"Why?" Sherlock murmured, not intending to be overheard by Moriarty.

"I made a promise, don't you remember. I promised that I would burn the heart out of you. And that is exactly what I am doing, though it is a lot of fun," Moriarty chuckled as he added, "Bye bye Sherlock dear, do be a good boy, and maybe I'll let you talk to John again."

The line went dead with those words ringing through the three men in the room. Sherlock's face went from calm to rage in less than a second. Sherlock raised the hand holding the phone and went to throw it at the wall opposite him. A hand quickly grabbed his and took the phone away. Sherlock looked up, rage in his steel gray eyes as he looked into the calmer, but still angry eyes of Gregory Lestrade.

"I'm sorry Sherlock. I would let you throw it, but I know if you did you would regret it instantly. It's the only way for that bastard to get in touch with us at the moment," Greg apologised. The phone was now clenched tight in his own hand.

Mycroft walked in front of Sherlock and looked at his little brother. He could see the pain and anguish on his face. He sighed and moved forwards pulling the younger man close and holding him. It took a few seconds before thin arms wrapped around Mycroft.

"It's been a long time since you offered comfort like this," Sherlock murmured, head resting on Mycroft shoulder.

"Maybe it has been too long, but you never let me offer in the past," he sighed, "I cannot understand what you are going through. But I do know one thing, I have never liked seeing you in pain, and I know you are," he finished, his voice soft and soothing.

Sherlock nodded, saying softly, "I'm worried for John. His voice sounds so weak and he is in so much pain. I know that he will carry on fighting, I… I just don't know how he will be when I get him back. He has been kept away, beaten, whipped. I just…" he trailed off. "I don't know what I can do for him," he whispered.

Mycroft pulled back slightly so he could see the tired eyes of his brother and told him, "Your mind is clouded by sentiment, not a bad thing," he said before Sherlock could say a work, "You need to relax and clear your thoughts, focus, that will help," he advised gently."

Sherlock looked at him and broke free of Mycroft's hold, "I'm going to my room, please leave me alone for a little while." With that, he turned and left the room." with that sherlock left the room.

"You're upset about something Gregory?" Mycroft asked, turning to the DI as he could see the upset on his face.

"What you said about sentiment, do you really think it clouds your mind?" Greg asked him. He had been wondering for a long time about Mycroft's thoughts. Greg had never been able to pin the slightly older man down about his feelings.

"Sentiment does cloud the mind, Gregory. Even now mine is clouded with thoughts of you, and what would I be like if I was in Sherlock's position." He closed his eyes for a second before opening them, letting himself be unguarded for the first time in a very long time.

"I know, I can't imagine what it would be like if that was you," Greg shuddered at the thought.

"See, sentiment clouds your judgment. But I rather like that fact," Mycroft said, reaching out a hand towards Greg.

Greg smiled back and nodded in agreement. He reached out his own hand and took hold of Mycroft's. He pulled the man towards him and held Mycroft close. Giving and receiving the comfort they needed as they thought of Sherlock and John and what the two of them were going through. All they could do now was wait for Sherlock to come back and hopefully get John back sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the amazing comments and kudos, you are all amazing. I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well.


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, just playing around while I can.
> 
> Sorry for taking so long to get this up. I lost a good friend a few weeks ago. And two weeks ago I had to say goodbye to my dog Benji.

CHAPTER 53

Mrs Hudson got out of the taxi and paid the fare. She smiled as she let herself into Baker Street and heard voices coming from upstairs. She quickly put her bags away and brought out the two gifts she got for her boys. She had gone to see her sister for a few days, let the boys have some time to themselves. Not that they would notice, when she had told them that she was leaving for a while, they had been too wrapped up in each other.

"Yahoo," she said as she climbed the stairs and entered 221 B's living room. She walked in and saw the pale looking Sherlock sat on the sofa, his brother and the detective. Mrs Hudson looked at them as she asked, "What is it?" she may be old and not as smart as Sherlock, but she had learned a few things from the young man.

Greg stood up and got the woman to sit down, "John was kidnapped a couple of days ago." He told her gently, he knew that the woman thought of both Sherlock and John as her sons.

Mrs Hudson shook a little as her hands covered her mouth as she almost whispered, "Do you know anything?"

Sherlock moved over to her, doing as John would have done if he had been there. He pulled her close and held her as he looked at his brother to explain things. Mycroft nodded his head as he told her exactly what they knew and what had happened so far. Mrs Hudson clung to Sherlock as she listened. When it was over she was crying and was leaning and clutching him as tightly as she could, afraid that Sherlock too would be taken.

"We will find him," Sherlock said, he promised as he held her tight, "I won't rest until he is here with us once more."

Mrs Hudson looked at him and could see the worry and stress in one of her boys eyes and she nodded. "I know you will Sherlock. I know you will. But do take care of yourself as well. If you push yourself too much then you won't be able to do anything to help." She warned him, knowing what he was like for doing such a thing.

Greg walked and placed some tea of the coffee table, no one had noticed as the man had left the room while everything was being explained, "here, tea, drink everyone. Also, Mrs Hudson, please remain here with us, we're going to have dinner in a couple of hours, and of course you are welcome to stay."

Mrs Hudson smiled to the kind man, "I know. Instead I'll cook something proper for you all to eat. I have no doubt by what I can see that you have eaten nothing but take aways since John was taken," she told him.

Mycroft was about to say something as some else walked through the door and into the living room. "Anthea," he greeted the sharply dressed woman.

"Sir," she nodded, "We have some information, not much, and I don't think it will help that much either." She added with a grimace, she liked John, he was nice and cute in a puppy dog way to her.

"Please tell," Mycroft nodded as everyone turned to her to listen.

"We have a problem, the CCTV footage in a 60 mile radius keeps going down. Not only that but it shows images from three weeks ago. And has been happening for around three weeks." She told him, not happy with what she had learned.

"What else?" Sherlock asked her, sensing that there was something more.

"All cameras in that area have been compromised, nothing in the last three weeks has been recorded and kept. We have someone on the inside, I have my most trusted starting to weed out the traitor sir, but it's going to take time." She told them.

"So, we have to rely on good old fashioned leg work." Mycroft nodded, a look of distaste on his face, but determination lighting up his eyes.

"Yes sir," she nods, "I already have people out trying to fix things. But I don't know how quickly that will get done and if we are hitting the right area."

"Very well. Keep up the work and make sure to keep us informed of anything that you find out." Mycroft told her.

The room goes quiet as the woman nodded and walked out of the room. Each thinking on what they could do to bring John back safe and sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the brilliant comments and kudos. I do hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as well.


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Sherlock, just messing around.
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, real life and trying to get a bit of writing done to get ahead in some of my fics.

Chapter 54

Sherlock looked to his brother, who was sat in his chair, drinking a fresh cup of tea. The last one had gone cold. On the sofa Greg was asleep, lying at an odd angle. Mycroft was watching him closely as the smell of coffee woke the man up from his slumber. Sherlock watched as his brother went over and rubbed Greg's neck, getting rid of the aching pain that was there. The two shared a smile and Sherlock could take no more as he got up and went into the kitchen. he knew that the two were together, but at that moment in time it hurt to see, he wanted his John, he wanted him back.

"Sherlock," came a voice from downstairs.

Glad of the distraction Sherlock called out, "Yes Mrs Hudson?"

"Would you all like some breakfast?" she asked as she came up the stairs, a bag of food in her arms, just in case. And if not, then it would be put in the fridge for when they wanted something.

"I wouldn't mind a little," Greg said as he stood up and greeted the woman.

Mrs Hudson smiled to him and got to work on making them all some breakfast. Sherlock didn't want anything, though he knew he should eat. he hadn't had a bite since John went missing since he wasn't there to remind him. She finished cooking and began to lay everything out as the three men sat around the table, insisting the woman join them since she had cooked. Sherlock didn't eat much, not really wishing to, but knowing if John was there he would make sure that he would have something. Greg helped Mrs Hudson clean up when they had finished, as Sherlock and Mycroft went back to the living room. Sherlock looked at everything that they had gathered so far and growled in frustration, there was nothing that he could use to find out where he was.

"There is nothing," sherlock said as he looked to hi brother.

Mycroft nodded his head, "At the moment no, but we are doing all that we can to find out where they have gone. Anthea is on it and you know how she works," he reminded him. He was about to say something more as someone knocked on the door downstairs. Mrs Hudson went to answer it, but Greg stopped her.

"I think I'll answer," he said with a smile, though the two men in the living room knew why he was the one to answer it. It wasn't long before he was back up stairs with a young man in tow and a parcel in his hands.

Sherlock went over to him and took it. He quickly opened it as soon as he saw what was written on the outside. It was from Moriarty, "How did you get this?" he asked the man as he opened it.

"It was given to my company this morning, gave us a lot if we could deliver it at nine in the morning. and we did," he answered him.

"Who gave it to you, do you have a name, description, anything?" Sherlock asked him, as he finished opening it and looked to the ornate box that was inside. It was a simple sliding puzzle, and sherlock quickly got to work on.

"Large man, bulky, looked like he was in the military, dark blond hair," the man said, "I don't know anything more than that, I only got a glimpse of him as he walked out and I was called in," he said, almost panicked by the look in the man's eyes as he questioned him.

Sherlock nodded his head and smirked as he got the box opened. Inside was an angel statue, but it was made of plaster, there was a post it note on it, saying Smash Me. Sherlock did so and smashed it on the floor of the kitchen. Inside the plaster cast was a plastic envelope. he bent down and picked it up. Inside were a note and a key. he looked at it as he opened it slowly and pulled out the note to read it.

"You see them, they see you, but they can blend in oh so well. Can you find them?" Sherlock said as he read from it.

"Any clue as to where the next is maybe?" Greg suggested as he finished his call to Donovan to take the delivery man into custody to get a statement from him.

"Maybe," sherlock said as he looked to the key, expanding it, there was the number 3 on it, and that was all.

They almost jumped when Sherlock's phone began to beep. He looked to it and then grabbed it out as he then read out the text, "For every ten minutes little johnny's will need a plaster, you have four hours before he loses his crown."

Sherlock looked at the note and then said, "I know what he means they are babies, so I would presume Jeff Hope. I need to know which office he was working out of that way I will be able to find it, "he almost babbled as he looked to Greg.

Greg nodded his head as he gave them an address, "We should go there, that was the office and it wouldn't take long," he said as he led the way out as Donovan came in to get the delivery man. he gave the woman a nod, and she didn't say anything as they walked out and into Greg's police car. this time sherlock didn't care, he knew that it would be the quickest way to get there and he would use anything to do so. the closer and work he was the closer and quicker he would be able to get to John.

With the sirens blaring Greg floored it out of Baker Street and headed towards the office. Sherlock carried on examining the key he had, there was a fob but it looked like something had put written on the paper inside. For now, he needed the others, and then he would check them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the awesome comments and kudos, hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well!

**Author's Note:**

> I do hope you enjoy the first chapter, quite a bit of this has been written, it just needs to be edited and redone a little.


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